Separation Anxiety
by Metropolis Kid
Summary: Do to some meddling, Alucard gets split into his three primary forms. The problem? They're having trouble putting him back together. And Hellsing butts heads with an ancient brotherhood of vampire hunters. AxS pairing. Hope you enjoy. AU, obviously.
1. Chapter 01: Oh, Bully

**Separation Anxiety**

**Chapter 1: Oh, Bully  
**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any material contained within this story. All copyrighted content remains the property of the person, people, or organization that holds the copyright. This story is solely for fun.

**AN:** The 'archer' mentioned is this chapter is not going to be a regular character in the story. He may show up once or twice more, but that'll be it. And I apologize if he seems... 'Stu-ish'. I just needed SOMEONE to split Alucard into his three, primary forms. He's a 'plot devise' and nothing more.

Alucard entered the warehouse and looked around. The night's work had been easy enough, rather boring in fact. He had not seen... or even sensed the presence of an enemy vampire, and the only 'fun' that the No-Life King had been able to enjoy came from blowing the heads off a number of ghouls. And that got old fast.

But then Alucard had sensed... something (he still wasn't completely sure what it was), some powerful energy coming from the nearby warehouse; and, hoping for a more 'entertaining diversion', the ancient vampire had abandoned the slaughtering of ghouls and gone off to investigate the unknown energy source, leaving the rest of the 'mop up' work to his fledgling.

As Alucard's eyes roamed the warehouse, his vampiric senses told him that the place was not quite as empty as it seemed. The power, what ever it was, was still there and it was moving around. With a bemused smile, Alucard closed his eyes and concentrated more on his vampiric senses as he continued to search the warehouse. If the energy source wanted to play cat and mouse, that was fine with him. After all, he rather enjoyed playing with his food.

So, the No-Life King moved around the warehouse, now being guided solely by his 'third eye'. The energy source was slowly moving away from him, but it wasn't fleeing. No, the movements were too precise for that. It was trying to lure him to a specific point, most likely into the jaws of some kind of trap. And the ancient vampire was okay with that too. Any edge the unknown energy source could get would only serve to make their eventual confrontation more interesting.

Still, Alucard figured he mine as well play along. "Come out. Come out... wherever you are." The vampire cooed, and then felt something like loose sand below his feet. The no-Life King opened his eyes and looked down to find that it was not sand at all. It was dust, vampire dust.

_So that's what happened to the vampire._ Alucard thought. _Seems someone... or something beat us here._ The No-Life King grinned. Sure, the RE-dead vampire was obviously a faker... otherwise, his ghoulish servants would've perished with him. But if whatever Alucard was sensing was powerful enough to slaughter another vampire, even a faker, it would likely provide a bit more fun than the No-Life King usually got from his 'search and destroy missions'.

And so, Alucard grinned; but then his eyes fell upon a most unusual object, one that was just barely poking out of the pile of dust. "Huh?" The ancient vampire crouched down and began to brush off the object. It appeared to be some exotic kind of gem, black as a moonless night and about the size of Alucard's fist.

"Now, what do we have here?" Alucard asked and then heard a sound behind his back, the sound of a cord being pulled taut.

"About time you showed up." The No-Life King commented, with a smirk, before raising himself back up and turning around to face his... 'playmate'.

"A bow?" The ancient vampire chuckled. "It's been a long time since anyone came at me with one of those."

The dark clothed archer's lip curled slightly as he released his grip upon the bow cord, sending the arrow flying.

Alucard just stood there and watched in amused silence as the arrow passed by the bow's staff and turned from a thing of wood and steal into a flying projectile of fire and darkness. The Ancient vampire could've easily sidestepped the shot if he'd chosen to, but that wasn't his style. Instead he just stood there, grinning like a maniac, and let it strike him in the chest.

The shot impacted with the force of a .44 caliber slug and burnt like napalm as it pierced into Alucard's chest. The ancient vampire just laughed like a man possessed and reached for his gun. The Archer got off another shot, one that struck the No-Life King's head, before Alucard was finished drawing his own weapon.

Alucard laughed again as half of his face was melted away, and just as quickly reformed from shadows. "Not bad." The ancient vampire commented as the archer readied a third arrow. "But I do hope you can do more than just shoot that bow... or this is going to be over far too quickly."

The No-Life King smirked as he pulled the trigger, only to see the archer jump away from the shot, roll upon the ground for a brief moment, land in a crouching position and fire off his third arrow.

As the third shot tore into Alucard's right shoulder, the vampire let out a sharp whistle. "Not bad at all." Then he began to laugh wildly as he fired off a volley of rounds at the archer. The No-Life King was enjoying himself immensely, other than the Judas Priest, the ancient vampire had not had such a worthy opponent in a hundred years.

The archer was actually managing to dodge every single shot from Alucard's Jackal, all the while peppering the vampire with those... 'delightful' little fire arrows. Yes, Alucard was having a lot of fun... that was until he noticed something that began to give him cause for concern.

The archer's speed, and that of his arrows, seemed to increase with each shot he landed, and it had grown so much that, even with his vampiric sense, Alucard was starting to have trouble tracking his enemies movements.

The archer seemed to just disappear from one spot and reappear in another, and the arrows were now striking so rapidly that Alucard didn't have enough time to completely heal from one shot before the next one struck. The ancient vampire growled, and then began to recite, "Releasing Control Art Restriction to lev-" Another volley of flaming arrows dissolved Alucard's head, silencing him before he could finish.

Then, as Alucard was in the process of reforming his head, another arrow was fired. This one, however, failed to turn into flame and dark energy. It impacted the ancient vampire causing no more harm then any normal arrow would.

The archer stopped and stared quizzically at his bow for a moment, and Alucard's reforming mouth smirked. "What's the matter? Your bow run out of juice?" The ancient vampire laughed again. It seemed his adversary had exhausted whatever enchantment was placed upon the bow. And once Alucard was finished reforming, he would end the fight... once and for all.

However, the archer still had a trick up his sleeve. He pulled out another arrow from his quiver. Only when this arrow struck, Alucard felt like his very soul was being ripped away from him. The ancient vampire howled in pain, as a flash of light sparked between him and the black gem.

And then, then Alucard felt week, weaker than he'd felt in a century. The No-Life King dropped to his knees and exclaimed, "What... what did you do to me?!"

The archer's head tilted to the side and he stared at the ancient vampire. Then he looked over at the gem; and then back at the vampire again. "Bloody hell! What went wrong?" The archer queried, only the words came out so quickly they sounded like nothing more then a jumbled mess.

Suddenly the archer was over where the gem had laid, holding the thing in his hand and looking it over. "No, it's full alright." The archer looked back over at the vampire, "What the bloody hell are you?"

It came out all sounding like one word; but at least, this time, Alucard was able to understand what the archer had said. The vampire chuckled as he rose back to his feet; and, for the first time since the battle started, there was a flash of fear in the archer's eyes.

He pulled another gem from his pocket. The second gem was the same size and shape as the other; only its color was a dull blue instead of a dark black. The archer dropped the gem in between himself and the ancient vampire. "Sure hope this works." He said, sounding unsure, as he readied and loosed another arrow.

Like the last one, when this arrow pierced the No-Life King's body, he felt his soul being siphoned off. There was another spark, from the ancient vampire to the second gem; and the thing went from a dull blue to a luminescent one.

Once again, Alucard went down; and, once again, the archer stared in disbelief. "This... this can't be happening! Two full gems and you're still here?!"

Alucard laughed. "It'll take more then a whelp like you to put down a monster like me!" And with that he lunged at the archer.

The archer seemed to be moving far slower than he had been before; but he still, barely, managed to dodge the ancient vampire's attack. Rather then catching the archer, Alucard slammed into a stack of nearby crates, housing everything from blenders to coffeemakers; and they came tumbling down, burying him.

While the ancient vampire attempted to move under the landslide of wood and kitchen appliances, the archer stooped down and grabbed the glowing, blue gem. He held it up to his bow, and a small stream of light began to flow between the two just as Seras entered the warehouse.

"Master?" The fledgling called and heard Alucard's voice cut into her head in response.

_Shoot that blasted archer!_

_Y-yes, Master._ Seras mentally replied as she readied her Harkonnen and ran to the part of the warehouse from which she sensed her Master's presence. As she rounded a long pile of crates of toilet paper, the archer came into view, and Seras aimed her cannon and fired.

The Archer saw the blast coming just in time and dropped to the floor, the shell passing within a hair's breath of his head and exploding in several crates of 7 UP, drenching that whole section of the warehouse in lemon-lime soda.

"Oh, bully... the other one." The archer sarcastically commented as Seras paused to remove a shell from her ammo pack and began to reload her weapon. The archer stood back up and attempted to run for cover, but he slipped on the warehouse's, now wet, stone floor. He fell and slid into a stack of boxes, the impact causing him to lose his grip on the gem. It rolled under a very low, steel shelf; and as the archer tried to retrieve it, he saw Seras taking aim again.

"Bullocks." The archer stated as he pushed against the steel shelf, sending himself sliding once more across the soda drenched, stone floor and narrowly missing another Harkonnen blast.

The second shell detonated in another stack of crates; and suddenly, a hail of partially intact stuffed animals began to rain down.

"Ah, screw this!" The archer exclaimed as a one armed, pink bunny hit him in the head; and Seras began loading a third shell.

The archer took off running and Seras followed, reloading her Harkonnen as she ran. But then he turned a corner and when she followed, she found that he'd completely disappeared.

Seras looked around for a moment, puzzled expression clearly evident on her face. But then there was an explosion of dark energy as her master finally summoned up enough power to free himself.

Alucard staggered over to his fledgling. "Did you kill him?" The ancient vampire asked, his voice sounding weaker than Seras had ever heard it before.

"N-no, Master. Not yet, anyw-" Seras replied as she turned to Alucard, only to find him looking ghostly pale (even more so than was usual for a vampire). "Master! What's happened to you?"

"I'm... fine." Alucard lied as his legs weekend, and he was forced to lean against a forklift to keep from falling down. "Just kill that blasted archer." Alucard growled.

But Seras was over come with concern. She'd never seen her master like this before. "We will... later. Right now we need to get you back to the mansion." Seras insisted as she grabbed one of her master's arms and wrapped it around her shoulder (to help support him).

"Disobedient Fledgling, I gave you an order." Alucard growled as Seras began to move him towards the warehouse's exit.

"Yeah, well you can punish me if you survive... Master." The fledgling replied, more concerned with her master's health than what would happen to her for disobeying him.

"Well, aren't you the brave one?" Alucard sardonically scoffed, then smirked.

And Seras half smiled. "Tonight I am." She firmly stated as they exited the warehouse.

(Well, hope you liked the first chapter. Please drop me a review and let me know what you thought thanks. BTW: I know this one wasn't that funny. But the story should get funnier as it progresses. I've got to lay the ground work first, right? LoL

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid.)


	2. Chapter 02: Recovery Effort

**Separation Anxiety**

**Chapter 2: Recovery Effort**

A few feet beyond the warehouse's entrance, Alucard collapsed again. Unable to rouse him, Seras carried her unconscious master back to the mansion. She laid him within his ebony coffin; and although the fledgling had no idea if God would listen to the prayers of an 'unholy creature' like her, she knelt down beside her master's coffin and prayed for him.

Perhaps the prayers were heard... or maybe it was Integra entering the dark, dungeon chamber, but Alucard finally began to stir. "My God! What's happened to you?!" The knight exclaimed as she peered into the coffin and saw her servant struggling just to remain conscious.

"I ran into... some unexpected difficulties, Master." The ancient vampire replied, though his voice was scarcely more then a whisper.

"Bloody understatement of the year." Integra grumbled before turning to Seras. "Go find Walter. Tell him to bring down the blood packets... all of them." The knight commanded, and the fledgling scrambled to obey her Master's master.

Seras returned a few minutes later, Walter trailing behind her. Both of them had their arms full of blood packets, and they deposited them into a stack by Alucard's coffin.

"If only you were always so generous, my master." Alucard half-teased and grinned up at Integra.

The knight reached down, grabbed a blood packet and flung it at her servant's face. "Hush up and drink, Idiot!" The 'Woman of Steel' replied with a huff, and her servant joyfully obeyed the order.

The No-Life King drank nearly four gallons worth of medical blood before some color began to return to his face, and he once more drifted off into blissful unconsciousness.

Meanwhile in the skies high above the English Channel:

The archer stared at the black gem in his hand. The mission had been a miserable disaster. He'd exhausted the enchantment placed upon his bow; and it would need to be recharged, which would probably cost him a couple thousand pounds, since he'd also lost his only grand soul gem. And what was worse? Even after two full gems, his target remained; and the fledgling had gotten involved and made a terrible mess of things.

_Lucky to have escaped without being drained._ The archer mused as he tightened his grip upon the black gem and placed it back into one of the folds of his robe. _Still, I got the bugger's soul... at least a part of it. So, my mission's __**technically**__ a success._ The archer just hoped his employer would see things the same way.

* * *

"What the Hell is this suppose to be?!" The old and balding mage shouted as he glared at the cringing form in front of him. The archer was suppose to bring back the soul of the most powerful vampire alive, Alucard. Instead the Black Soul Gem contained the soul of some barely teenage, female vampire.

"I used the gem, bow and arrows you gave me. I shot Alucard and siphoned off his soul into the gem... just as instructed. I can hardly be blamed for the fact that the gem **you provided** couldn't hold all of him." The archer defended.

"All of him? All of him! This... thing you brought me isn't even the same gender!"

"Silence." An authoritative, female voice sounded from somewhere behind the mage's back, and the archer looked puzzled, for it seemed as if the voice had come from a fifteen foot statue. "'She' may look different than we'd expected." The, apparently talking, statue continued. "However, she bares the same energy signature as the one he was sent to capture. This is a piece of Alucard's soul... and as such, it may yet be enough for our purposes."

If the archer was surprised by the talking statue, the 'teenage girl' was completely astonished. "What's going on?" She questioned, her voice bordering on hysteria. "Who's Alucard? What did you mean by the same energy signature? And what does any of this have to do with me?!"

The mage turned to the statue. "It does not remember what it is?" He asked.

"This is only a piece of the vampire's soul." The statue answered. "Apparently, she does not retain his memories, but that too could work to our advantage... just so long as she possesses the same abilities."

"Glad you're pleased." The archer cut in, though his voice held no trace of sincerity. If anything, he sounded annoyed. "Now, may I have the rest of my payment?"

The large, stone chamber was silent for a moment... just a moment. Then the statue replied. "You may keep the Hatreds Soul bow, and any arrows you might have left."

"What about the ring I was promised?" The archer inquired in a low, menacing tone.

"You were promised that in exchange for the vampire's soul... not a piece of it."

"I can hardly be blamed if what you people gave me wasn't sufficient to house his whole soul. That is not my fault!" The archer objected.

"And that is why you may keep your... 'down payment'."

"Bloody, back stabbing bitc..."

The archer was cut off as a fireball was hurled in his direction and impacted the ground only a few centimeters from his feet. "The Lady Meridia is being generous. I suggest you be content with that generosity." The mage warned.

And, although the archer's face twisted into a scowl, he left without another word.

Then the mage, fire still glowing in his palm, turned his attention to the 'young' vampire. "And now... as for you..."

* * *

As the archer left the chamber, the warehouse workers were just starting to arrive at the sight of his earlier battle. "What a bloody mess!" One of the workers exclaimed as he looked at the toppled stack of kitchen appliances, the exploded crates, disfigured stuffed animals and 7-Up drenched floor.

"Yeah, must've been a break-in last night." Another worker stated.

The first one turned to glare at the second and replied in a patronizing tone. "Oh, you think?"

The second worker kept his mouth shut, but a third chimed in, "What do you think they were after?"

"Who knows? Could've been anything... or maybe nothing at all." A female voice answered, and a couple of the other workers turned to stare at her, obviously waiting for an explanation. "Could've just been some kids pulling a prank." The woman continued.

And a few of the other workers nodded. "Damn kids." One growled.

"Hey!" A rather booming voice exclaimed. "Are we going to stand around speculating all day? Or... are we going to get busy and start cleaning up this mess?"

The other workers sighed, but begrudgingly went to their work anyway.

* * *

As she walked through the mansion, Seras was rather pleased with herself. She'd finally repaid her master for Cheddar, having carried him back to the safety of the Hellsing mansion and, quite possibly, saved his (un)life. Even if she was forced to disobey one of his orders, surely it was worth it to save him. Still, she couldn't help but wonder if and how her master might punish her.

It was then that a rather perverted and twisted little fantasy began to unfold in Seras's mind, causing the fledgling to jump. She looked around the hallway, almost franticly. "Master, I know you're here." She spoke at the, seemingly, deserted hallway.

_Oh, really? And how do you know that, Police Girl?_ Alucard's sultry, velvet voice invaded his fledgling's mind.

_Well, for one thing, I'm not that perverted._

"Indeed?" Alucard questioned as he stepped through the wall behind Seras and grabbed her. Slowly the ancient vampire pressed his form into that of his fledgling. "Did you not invite me to punish you?" He whispered seductively into her ear.

Seras gulped. 'Invite' was hardly the right word. She'd simply intended to express that her concern for him outweighed any fear she might have over how he'd react to her disobeying his order. Still, Seras knew better than to argue semantics with her master. "Y-yes... B-but not like... like that."

"Oh?" Alucard replied, his words still flowing like silk. "And would you prefer that I bend you over my knee, slowly pull your panties down until they're around your ankles and then repeatedly strike your bare backside with my gloved hand?"

Seras blushed deeply. Bloody Hell, he managed to make **even that** sound dark and forbidden. "I... I... I..." She stammered as he held her close, and she felt his cold breath upon her neck.

"May I assume that, if you're playing with the Police Girl, you're feeling better, Alucard?" Integra interjected from the hallway's entrance.

Alucard grinned and pulled his form away from his fledgling's. He rounded her and bowed his head at the knight. "Much better, Master."

And Seras breathed a sigh of relief. She shuddered to think what might've happened if her boss hadn't been nearby.

"Good." Integra replied to Alucard's statement of health. "Then you won't mind submitting to some tests."

"What kind of tests?" Alucard asked sounding unsure. The last time he'd been 'tested' by a member of the Hellsing family... well, sufficient to say, the words did not provoke happy memories.

"Frightened, Vampire?" Integra let out a short, dry laugh. "Nothing like what you're thinking, I'm sure... Just a few 'exercises' to make sure you're ready to return to active duty."

"So, in other words, you've set up hoops; and now I have to jump through, them like a good 'pet', before you'll allow me to maim and kill once more... all in your Queen's best interest, of course."

Integra half-smiled before turning her back to the two vampires. As the knight began to walk away, she simply informed, "Walter is waiting for you. You'll find him by the training grounds."

* * *

The butler stood with a list in his hands. Nearly every item had been checked off. It seemed the No-Life King retained all of his speed, strength, superhuman accuracy, mental powers and regeneration. There was only one thing left to check.

"Alright, Alucard. Time to test your shape shifting."

"Want me to change into Baskerville?" Alucard flashed the butler a toothy grin before continuing, "Oh, no... you always preferred the fourteen year-old, raven haired girl, didn't you?" The monster's grin widened.

And Walter flustered just a little.

Alucard laughed. "Yes, I thought so. Fine, one... 'girly-card' coming right up." The ancient vampire dissolved beneath a swirling mass of red-eyed shadows and attempted to retake the form he'd used so much during World War II. But alas, no pale faced, red eyed teenage girl emerged from the shadows. Alucard was puzzled. He waited a moment and then tried again, but no matter how hard the monster concentrated he could not form the little vampire.

Frustrated, a low growling sound could be heard from the mass of shadows that pooled across the obstacle course ground. Alucard paused for another moment before switching tracks and trying his Hell-Hound form. But once again, the result was the same.

With a scowl upon his face, Alucard's most common form finally rose from the dark puddle.

"Oh dear, you've lost the ability to shape-shift?"

"It would appear so." The ancient vampire grumbled in reply. Just what had that blasted archer done to him?!

(Well, I hope you enjoyed the second chapter. Please drop me a review and let me know what you thought. Thanks. Next chapter Doggy-Card gets freed from his soul gem and begins to stalk the streets of London... possibly gathering a small pack and outwitting a city dog catcher along the way. Hope you enjoy.

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid.)


	3. Chapter 03: 'DoggyCard' Rises

**Separation Anxiety**

**Chapter 3: 'Doggy-Card' Rises**

**AN: **This one's mostly humor... my attempt to make up for the last couple of chapters. Next one should advance the plot a bit more. Well, I hope you enjoy.

"Alucard."

The soft, familiar call pierced the haze of dark dreams and roused the monster.

"Alucard."

Once again the No-life King heard his master's summons; he rose from his coffin.

"Alucard!"

The name was spoken a bit more impatiently, his master obviously starting to get annoyed by the fact he had not yet appeared before her.

The ancient vampire smirked. At times, his master was still so much like a child. Alucard let out a little chuckle at the thought, as he hovered out of his coffin and ascended through the chamber's ceiling.

* * *

Blast, where was that vampire? She'd already called him three times, and he had yet to answer her summons. Integra's meager supply of patience was beginning to wear thin. "A-L-U-C..." Integra started to shout just as her 'pet' vampire's upper body rose through the floor.

"You called for me, Master?"

"Yes, I did... three times, in fact." Integra replied in an annoyed tone. "What took you so long?"

"My apologies, Master." Alucard answered as he removed his hat and bent into an elaborate, **almost** mocking bow. "I was sound asleep, when your shrill voice first interrupted by dreams." The vampire continued; his sly grin being hidden by his lowered head.

"**Shrill** voice?" Integra questioned calmly. "Are you trying to provoke me, Vampire?" The knight asked coyly, her voice sounding more amused than angered.

Alucard stood back up, his face holding a very slight look of disappointment at having not received the reaction he'd hoped for. Perhaps she'd 'grown up' a little bit more than he'd given her credit for. "Wouldn't dream of it, Master." Alucard lied as he placed his hat back atop his head.

A single, dry chuckle escaped Integra's mouth. "No, of course not." The knight replied sarcastically before turning the conversation to more important matters. "British intelligence sources believe they've found a lead on your archer."

"Oh?" Alucard's face lit up with excitement. The No-Life King nearly ached for a rematch... and the thrill that defeating the archer and sucking down his blood would bring. That blasted enemy would make a wonderful familiar.

"Yes. A man matching the description you gave me was spotted at a nightclub a few days ago. He was seen talking to someone already under an undercover investigation by MI-5."

"Indeed, and what were the two discussing?"

"That, we don't know... not for sure. But MI-5 believes the man to be some kind of... 'contract' broker. It's possible the archer was hired by a third party; and, if that's the case..."

"The contract broker may know how to get a hold of the blasted archer." The vampire cut in.

"Or... at least the people who hired him." The knight finished.

Alucard flashed his master a toothy grin. "So, where's this club?"

* * *

"Alright, Mac. Tell you what; I'll go as high as three-fifty for it." The pudgy man standing behind the counter said.

"Three-fifty?!" The warehouse worker replied incredulously. "Three-fifty for this? You've got to be kidding me!" He continued, pointing to the gem he'd found while cleaning up the warehouse. "It's as big as my fist, glows with... **some kind** of inner light and is warm to the touch! It's unlike anything I've ever seen, and you're only going to offer me three hundred and fifty pounds!" The worker simply couldn't believe what he was hearing. Surely the pawn broker wasn't serious.

"Look, Mac. I'm going to be honest with you." The pawn broker replied, though the warehouse worker doubted the man's claim. "It's a unique gem... but that's part of the problem. I mean I've got no idea what it is... never mind how much it's really worth. I'll offer you three-fifty because it's smooth, attractive and a real novelty. Maybe it's worth more; maybe it's worth less. Maybe some scientist or wannabe psychic comes in tomorrow and offers me a thousand for it. Or maybe it just sits on my shelf for a year, and I end up selling it to some kid for five pounds. I don't know; and because I don't know, I'm not going to go out on a limb for more than three-fifty."

The warehouse worker scowled at the pawn broker, and the latter continued. "Hey, you don't like it? Feel free to take your merchandise elsewhere."

With another scowl the warehouse worker scooped up the gem and shoved it back into his pocket. He'd do just that. In a city the size of London someone had to be willing to offer more than three-fifty.

"Fine, suit yourself." The pawn broker told the departing warehouse worker before turning to deal with another customer.

The warehouse worker stepped outside the small pawnshop and noticed that the sun was just starting to set. His wife would be expecting him home soon. Maybe he should've taken the deal?

The man turned back towards the shop for a moment, but his pride wouldn't let him reenter it. So, with a huff and a jerk of his jacket, the man set off looking for another shop... or maybe a psychic or scientist.

But before he'd walked more than a block, something small and furry dashed between his legs. Then something large smacked into his back, and the man fell to the street. He fell right on his nose, breaking it and causing blood to pool under his head.

"Get back here you mangy mutt!" A Scottish... or perhaps Irish sounding voice cried, and the warehouse worker turned his head to see that the 'large thing', which ran into his back, was actually a large man, a large man in a city dog catcher's uniform.

_Great. That's just great. Knocked over by some Celtic flee chaser, can my luck get any bloody worse?_ The man thought bitterly as he pulled away from the dog catcher and tried to stand. The warehouse worker then decided that yes, his luck could indeed get worse. For, apparently, when he was dragging himself over the concrete sidewalk, one of his jacket pockets had gotten caught in a crack; and the man, not knowing this, had continued onward, ripping the pocket open and spilling its contents onto the sidewalk.

The gem laid there, in the middle of the small pool of blood; and then something very strange happened. It began to soak in the blood. As the blood disappeared into the gem its glow grew more intense until finally there was a cracking sound, and a blinding, blue light shone forth. And then... then, where the gem had once rested, a great, dark beast now stood!

In form, it resembled a very large dog. However, its 'fur' was black as night; and its six eyes glowed with an unholy, red energy. The creature growled, sniffed the air a couple of times then bent down and lapped up the rest of the blood with one lick of its serpentine tongue.

"Saints, preserve us! It be the Devil's own mongrel hound!" The city dog catcher exclaimed and crossed himself.

"Bollocks!!!" The terrified warehouse worker screamed as only one thought filled his mind... R_un! _And he did just that.

Of course it was never wise to run from a dog, and the Hell-Hound felt an instinctive impulse to chase after the fleeing man, pin him to the ground, tear his throat open and then feast upon the blood that spilled out. Possessing the mind of a dog, Baskerville did not even think to question this instinct. He simply obeyed it... or at least he attempted to.

The beast crouched down, its fur standing on end, and prepared to chase after its prey. But right before it took off, a net was cast around its head.

"Easy there, Boy. Easy." The city dog catcher commanded as he attempted to hold the beast back.

But Baskerville was no ordinary mutt. In the blink of an eye, the creature's body dissolved into shadow tendrils that passed right through the holes in the net. The beast reformed a few feat away and snarled at the dog catcher; and somehow, the scene felt... familiar. There was just something about the dog catcher's scent. The hound couldn't quite place it but it new it'd smelt that scent, or something very similar to it, before.

The man looked taken back for a moment, just a moment. Then he gripped the handle of his net with a renewed determination. "Aye, Laddy, you've got some tricks alright. But dat's not gonna' save ye. In twenty years Dog Catcher Patrick Anderson's never let a man be mauled on his watch... And I don'na plan ta start now."

The beast licked its lips in a 'come-and-get-it' gesture, and the dog catcher let out a battle-cry as he charged the creature. The two fought for what felt like hours (though in truth it was closer to fifteen minutes). Neither one seemed to be able to get the upper hand.

Anderson was experienced and knew how to keep away from the beast's powerful jaws, but Baskerville was able to 'shadow-shift' right through the dog catcher's net. Trying to catch the beast was rather like attempting to eat soup with a fork, and Anderson was getting nowhere.

The dog catcher was, however, buying time... time for the warehouse worker to get away... time for other people to notice the 'devil-dog' and call for help... and, most importantly, time for the police to arrive.

* * *

Two cop cars pulled up by the strange, dueling pair; and the officers stared on in shock for a moment. When they'd gotten the call about a 'mad Hell-Hound' attacking a city dog catcher, they'd thought it was a prank at first... or at least, the ludicrous exaggeration of some hysterical woman. But now they saw that they were very much mistaken. Surely this creature was sired in the lowest pits of Hell!

The officers' blood ran cold for a minute, and they gulped. But then the dog catcher hollered, "Hey, you bobbies gonna' stand dere all day... or are ye gonna' help me out!"

The cops shook their heads, the shock driven from their minds and their training replacing it. Out came the pistols, and the officers took aim. They fired.

And bullets began to rip through Baskerville's form. The dog growled and snarled at the officers, but it soon realized that it was not yet ready for a fight of this caliber. It was still too weak. It needed food, nourishment. It needed blood. And so, the beast decided to 'call' for help.

Amidst the hail of gunfire, Baskerville raised its head and let out an earsplitting howl; and the howl was answered by the barking of every canine within a five kilometer radius. Old and young, big and small, Poodle to Great Dane, every dog within earshot of Baskerville drove itself crazy in an attempt to answer the Hell-Hound's cry.

They smashed themselves against closed doors until the wood cracked and splintered and they were freed. They gnawed through their leashes and three-cord ropes. They even burst right through glass windows in a frenzied attempt to reach what they all recognized as the ultimate alpha male, the supreme pack leader.

The steady stream of canines flooded the London streets, converging into a massive wave of fanatical dogs all flowing towards the great, dark beast.

"By the Virgin Mother!" The dog catcher called out, half in prayer, as his eyes beheld the most terrifying sight he'd ever seen. Why, oh why couldn't he of settled on a nice, peaceful occupation like his cousin, the orphanage priest?

(Well, I hope you enjoyed the Third chapter. It's late, and I'm tired. I may've missed a few things in my proofread. I apologize if I did... but I'll do a more thorough one tomorrow. Anyway, please drop me a review and let me know what you thought. Thanks. Next chapter: Integra finds out that her 'pet' been causing trouble... and Hellsing gets a snitch... Er, I mean 'informant'.

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid.)

(To Edd the Head: Thanks for the review. I hope you're enjoying this. Yes, I'm using several elements from Oblivion (The Elder Scrolls IV). It just seemed like some of the things from that game would be... interesting crossed over with Hellsing.)


	4. Chapter 04: Picking up the Trail

**Picking up the Trail**

**AN: **My hard drive bought the farm recently, and I haven't been able to get a hold of a replacement yet. :( So, I'm using an older PC that doesn't have all the proof reading software I'm use to. So, please excuse any typos that I may miss. Hopefully, my main computer will be operational again in time for the next chapter.

Alucard entered the nightclub alone. His master had seen fit to assign different missions to him and his fledgling. While the No-Life King would be following up on the tip that could end up leading him to the blasted archer, the Police Girl would be investigating reports of some bizarre form of 'demon dog' that had attacked some bobbies and a very determined dog catcher.

So Alucard was absent his loyal fledgling as he casually strolled through the neon lit club, doing his best to blend into the background of drunken and high party goers and making sure to give the dance floor a wide berth. Still the ancient vampire couldn't help but shake his head as his peripheral vision caught glimpses of the dance floor's occupants. They jerked and flailed their bodies around in manners almost****reminiscent of a human in the throws of a small seizure. _Apparently, 'dancing' has come a long way since my days._ The Count thought bitterly.

However, even he had to admit that a few of the moves the women were preforming were a bit... 'enticing'. But the display, though somewhat arousing on a purely animalistic level, was devoid of all the grace and subtle seduction that the art had once held; and Alucard shook his head again as a man in a neat, if not excessively showy, business suit began to walk towards him.

The man made eye contact with the vampire. Then he turned and sat down at the far end of the club's bar. After a brief moment, Alucard claimed the stool next to the man.

"Scotch on the rocks." The man in the business suit said to the bartender; and then, once the bartender moved away to fill the order, the man turned his head slightly to the left. "You the agent from the Hellsing Organization?"

"Yes." Alucard replied in a hushed tone.

"The guy you're looking for is sitting at a table in the far right corner. He's the one in the grey Armani knock off. Just, please, try to avoid making a scene." The man almost pleaded. Although the Hellsing organization was technically a government secret, its members had a bad reputation for over-the-top antics, often relying on other government branches to cover up their deeds 'after the fact'. "This club's a front for a major crime syndicate. It took us four months to infiltrate, and we'd like to avoid drawing any undue attention."

"Don't worry. I'll be discrete." Alucard replied. What he meant was that he'd get the potential 'informant' outside, before biting down on his neck, drinking his blood, consuming his very soul and absorbing his memories.

* * *

In an area of the city that had been abandoned by its human residents, a large pack of canines ruled over their new domain. It was an... unfortunate turn of events for a stray, small, orange tabby who found herself trapped in a dumpster after the dogs took over. Frightened by the howling and barking coming from every direction, the poor little kitten decided to just hide out in the metal trash container and wait for the nightmare to end. But after a few hours, the dogs, having secured their section of the city, went about scavenging for food.

Smelling some meat that had not yet completely rotted, a large bit bull jumped up and into the dumpster. Frightened by the canine's sudden appearance, the cat screeched and leapt out from the dumpster. She took off running, and the dog licked its chops before giving chase.

The cat ran as fast as it could; but, in the blocks now controlled by dogs, there was no escape. It was finally cornered in a dark alley-way. The pit bull, along with some other canines, slowly closed in on its prey.

The little kitten let out a pitiful sounding wine as it realized that it was about to be killed... or worse, eaten alive by the dogs.

But then a most unexpected thing happened. A very large, black dog, a breed unlike anything the cat had seen before, leapt down from a nearby rooftop. It placed itself in between the pit bull and its prey then growled out a low warning. The other dogs backed up a few paces, but the pit bull held its ground.

Like the others, the pit bull had heard the hell hound's howl and answered its 'call to arms'. Like the other canines it had believed the great, dark furred, red eyed creature to be the ultimate alpha male. But now it doubted its previous conviction. Surely the ultimate alpha could not be some kind of cat sympathizer. The great, dark hound was an impostor! The pit bull would kill him and take his place as pack leader.

The dog leapt at the hell hound, but the fight was over scarcely after it had begun. In a flash the pit bull laid cut open, its neck snapped and guts pouring from a deep wound in its belly. The hell hound eyed the other dogs, and they scattered. Then it began to chow down on its latest victim; and in less time than it would take a human to eat a sandwich, the pit bull's corpse vanished beneath a blanket of darkness and a flurry of sharp teeth. Then the hell hound turned its attention to the kitten that was cowering at the back of the alley.

The little tabby was still absolutely terrified. It was sure it was going to be dessert for the horrible, cannibalistic, red eyed monster. It felt an unprecedented fear grip it as the creature slowly stalked over to it. And for a moment, it seemed almost like the hell hound was enjoying the fear it provoked in the small tabby. But then, as it finally reached the kitten, it simply rolled out it's long tongue and gave the cat a long, slurping lick.

The tabby looked up at the hell hound and saw its tail was wagging. The kitten let out a curious sounding meow.

The hell hound responded with a playful bark and another long lick.

And although the kitten was now terribly confused, it understood that the great, dark monster did not intend to harm it.

* * *

Alucard had managed to get the 'broker' to agree to leave the nightclub with him. It wasn't even difficult to do. It was truly amazing what a little hypnosis could accomplish. However, the ancient vampire was beginning to have second thoughts about eating the man. He was a sniveling, little, week opportunist, the kind of man who'd have no problem selling out his own grandmother for a couple of pounds. And Alucard wasn't sure if he really wanted a soul like that floating around inside him. Maybe he'd just get the man back to the mansion and extract the information he wanted through good, old-fashioned torture techniques. He doubted it would take long. Men like that tended to break rather quickly. Yes, torture sounded preferable to having that man's voice swimming around somewhere in his head.

But as the broker exited the club, Alucard's plans for the night were suddenly shattered. There was a distant, low crackling sound and the broker's head exploded into a rain of blood, bone and red meat.

Alucard growled as he pulled his Jackal out from his pocket and stepped out of the nightclub, walking over the broker's fallen body. The ancient vampire stood still on the sidewalk, preferring to use his 'third eye' to search for the broker's killer.

The No-Life King's lip curled slightly as he caught a flutter of movement from one of the nearby rooftops. The sniper was there, and he was running. Alucard ducked into a shadowed alley and disappeared from sight. He reappeared a couple of blocks away, where the sniper had just finished descending the building's fire escape.

As soon as the man's feet touched down on the ground, he heard a mocking voice ask, "Going somewhere?" Then the next thing he knew an impossibly strong hand was wrapped around his throat. Before he even had a chance to protest,The sniper was hoisted back up and slammed into the building's side.

The man turned his head towards the vampire, and Alucard looked slightly taken back as he saw the sniper's face. "Belmont?"

"Hey, Red, long time no see." The man choked out, his face wearing an expression slightly a kin to a naughty boy whose hand had been caught in the cookie jar.

Alucard pulled back his arm and let the sniper fall to the ground. The vampire just stood there for a moment and let the man catch his breath. "What did you think you were doing, Belmont? That man had information I wanted." The vampire growled.

"Sorry, Red. A group, I freelance for sometimes, put a hit out on him. The job paid well; so I took it. If you'd come out first... or I'd seen you talking to the guy, I'd have waited until you were done with him before I pulled the trigger." The sniper offered up apologetically.

"So you've resorted to freelancing now? Become nothing more than a hired gun, huh?"

"'A hired gun'?" The sniper let out a half-laugh/half-snort. "That's all I ever was at Hellsing. Pays better on the outside, hours too. And I can pass on the more dangerous assignments."

Alucard shook his head. _What a waste._ He thought.

Michael Belmont had been one of Hellsing's best snipers. Twice he'd survived when the rest of his squad fell. In the last year of the young man's contract he'd even been partnered up with Alucard for a while. Michael was no 'Angel of Death', not by a long shot. But he was a very talented human... and from a bloodline that the vampire had had some dealings with in the past. It was a shame that the man had resorted to freelance work.

Still the ex-Hellsing employee might be able to give the No-Life King a new lead. "Who ordered the hit?"

"Sorry, Red. Can't tell you that, confidential information."

Alucard glared at the sniper. "Because we once served the same master, I'm going to extend a rare courtesy to you and remind you that I have... 'other ways' of extracting information."

Michael gulped as he caught the ancient vampire's meaning. Suddenly the sniper's neck felt very... 'exposed', and a chill ran down his spine as he considered the predicament he found himself in. If he kept his mouth shut, 'Red' was going to clamp down on his neck and extract the information through his blood, not a pleasant thought. On the other hand, if the sniper talked, the same group that put a hit out on the broker would consider **him** a security risk and do the same to him.

"Bloody hell, stuck between a rock and a hard place, aren't I?" Michael grumbled to himself as he tried to figure out the course of action least likely to get him put six feet under. Finally, he sighed and replied, "Alright. I'll talk... but to Sir Integra."

Alucard flashed the young man a toothy grin. "What, you don't trust me to let you live? You need some assurance from my master?"

"With all due terror, Red, you're not the **main** concern I have right now."

"Oh?" The vampire asked, sounding somewhat amused by the sniper's reply.

"Yeah." Michael answered. "Sure, you're a blood sucking monster... but if you really wanted me dead... or consumed... or whatever it is you do to your victims, we wouldn't still be talking."

Alucard broke out into a chorus of dark laughter before replying. "True, true. So you've still got a brain in that head of yours after all. Fine, we'll go see the master."

(Well, I know it's been a little while, but I hope you got a kick out of the update. Please review and let me know what you thought. Thanks. Next chapter: Seras meets up with Doggy-Card; Alucard takes Michal to see Sir Integra; and maybe we'll even find out a little bit more about what's going on with Girly-Card.

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid.)


	5. Chapter 05: Dog Fight

**Dog Fight**

**AN:** I'm sorry. But I'm afraid I wasn't able to include the part with Seras and Alucard reporting back to Integra here. The doggy scene just ran too long, and the scene I want to do with Integra will probably be about another 1,000 words. So, just look for it in the next chapter, okay?

She ran. Out of the dark, dungeon chamber, down the long hallway and up the spiraling staircase, she ran. This was her chance, perhaps her only shot at freedom. The 'fourteen year old girl' didn't even know her name. But she knew she had to escape. The bald, old man in the robe was doing terrible things to her in the dark recesses of that dungeon, horrible, evil experiments.

The knives, swords, axes and spikes hadn't been too bad. They'd hurt briefly, but her body had managed to heal itself almost instantly. The lighting and frost attacks hadn't been much worse. But the fire... the fire was a different story. It hurt, and her flesh continued to burn long after the flame was taken away from her body. It took much longer to heal from, and what was worse was that the bald man had abandoned virtually every other kind of experiment, in favor of more having to do with fire.

She just couldn't take it anymore. It had taken days to plan her escape, so many hours of watching the guards' movements and shifts, studying them as they kept an eye on her, noticing how each one reacted. She'd finally found the chink in the armor, the breach in the stone wall, through which she could escape.

One of the guards had been watching her just a little bit too closely, his eyes roaming appraisingly over her body even while she was restrained and they had no reason to. Quickly she'd realized that that guard, a sick, perverted man who looked nearly old enough to be her grandfather, had a more... carnal interest in her.

Then it was only a matter of proper preparation, timing the guards' shifts precisely and planting little seeds of lust and subtle words of reassurance in the one who was their Achilles' heal. As soon as she'd convinced him how much 'fun' they could have if he released her, she'd struck. She'd bitten the pervert's neck and sucked him dry. And it was a good thing she had. With the guard's fresh blood still flowing through her, the girl was moving faster than she ever had before.

She needed that extra speed too, for the bald man in the robe was practically on her heels. She dodged and ducked under flying balls of fire as she reached the top of the staircase and began to pry open one of the insanely large, marble doors.

It wasn't easy, no normal girl or man, fourteen or otherwise, could've managed it on their own. But she was far from 'normal'. She got the door open and passed through, hoping to finally escape her nightmare, only to find herself in some kind of large gathering hall.

The girl was stunned for a brief moment as she looked around and saw what had to be at least a hundred well armed men and women surrounding her. They stood and began to ready weapons, varying from crossbows to automatic machine guns, and the girl gulped.

Then she attacked. It was an attack born out of simple desperation. But she was still making phenomenal progress. She would strike one, do as much damage as she could with whatever she could grab and drink as much blood as she dared before quickly jumping to the next one, all the while trying to stay one step ahead of where the rest were pointing their weapons.

Yes, she was doing remarkably well, all things considered, and for a moment she actually thought she might still manage to escape. But then the girl leapt at one man who was just barely able to train his gun in time. It was a shotgun, and the girl was not afraid. Even pointblank she could continue on through whatever damage he caused and possibly get a few drops of his blood to speed her healing.

But, unfortunately for the girl, the man's shotgun was not loaded with standard, 'buckshot', rounds; but rather with zirconium-based pyrotechnic, 'dragon's breath', ones. The large flame passed right through the center of her body, and the girl fell to the floor in an agonizing amount of pain.

She looked up at the man, pitifully. And his face seemed to soften. "Don't worry. You suffering's nearly over." He spoke in what was obviously meant to be a comforting tone as he pumped his shotgun, expelling the empty cartridge and loading a new one into place. He aimed the weapon at the girl's head, and she thought that maybe it was for the best. She'd wanted to escape. But really, where could she go? And would they not come after her? At least if she died the bald man in the robe couldn't hurt her anymore.

The girl closed her eyes and prepared for eternity. But just as the man was about to pull the trigger, a purple beam of energy lifted the weapon out of his hand and pulled it over to the bald, robed man. "I offer you my thanks for preventing the creature's escape. But we'll take it from here."

* * *

Seras leapt from rooftop to rooftop. It was the easiest way to enter the part of the city that the 'demon dog' and his pack had claimed for their own. Going in at street level would've meant fighting her way through the dogs under the demon's control; and although the fledgling had no doubt she could handle the pack of canines, Seras had no desire to harm the poor, misguided creatures. She was only after the abominable monster that had risen up from the very pits of Hell.

_Send a monster to catch a monster._ The vampire mused as her nose caught the faint scent of fresh blood. The fledgling's lip curled; although whether it was due to the sweet smell of blood or the knowledge that she was getting close to her prey, she didn't know.

The vampire leapt across a few more rooftops before the smell grew to the point where she knew that she had to be right above its source. She looked over the side of the building and saw three normal dogs, of varying breeds, dragging an eviscerated, human corpse over to a very large, red eyed and black furred creature.

The other three dogs deposited the body at the demon's feet, like primitive humans bringing an offering to one of their 'gods'. Then the normal dogs just stood where they were, as if waiting for the monster's approval.

The demon eyed the dogs for a moment, and they inched back slightly. The creature snorted, then lowered its head and dug into the dead man's chest, ripping out the heart and swallowing it whole. This was, apparently, either a sign of the demon's approval or the canine equivalent to a dinner bell. For the three dogs, who had been patiently standing on the sidelines before, descended upon the corpse, ripping into it with their sharp 'canines'.

Seras watched; and, against her will, the vampire's fangs grew. As much as she hated to think about it, the scene did stir feelings of an unnatural and foul hunger within her. And so the vampire licked her lips, and her mouth began to salivate as she watched the barbaric scene.

Seras waited until the three dogs had had their fill and began to retreat back into the night. It was too late to help the man they'd already killed. There was nothing to be gained by interrupting the canines' meal. If she had, she'd of had to fight and possibly kill the three dogs too, and that just didn't seem right. It wasn't their fault they'd killed the man. It was due to the demon dog's influence; Seras was sure of it. So she'd waited for them to leave.

Almost as soon as they did, a small, whiskered head poked its way out from behind an overflowing garbage can. The new creature let out a soft meow, and the demon ripped off a small strip of human flesh before turning to the little kitten.

The monster moved, almost faster than Seras could see, and appeared in front of the small, orange tabby. Seras stood up, her form becoming a dark silhouette as the full moon shown brightly behind her back. The vampire was sure that the demon was now going to kill the small kitten, and she had no intention of allowing that. She was just about to jump down and immediately engage the monster in combat when something unexpected happened.

Rather than swallowing its current strip of flesh, the demon dropped it in front of the kitten, as if presenting it to her. The small cat cocked its head to the side, and Seras found herself preforming the same action. The demon nuzzled the little, orange tabby for a moment, gently pushing the kitten's face toward the strip of human flesh.

The cat opened its mouth and moved as if to nibble on the flesh, and Seras could've sworn she saw something akin to a proud, sick grin spread across the demon's face. But then the cat pulled away from its 'meal'. The kitten looked up at the demon and let out a strange sounding meow. The monster growled and glared down at the cat; and it lowered its head back to the strip of flesh, again opening its mouth. And, once again, the kitten raised its head without taking a bite. It offered up another meow, one that Seras could've sworn sounded... repentive; and the demon shook its head, almost sadly, before finally nodding and swallowing the strip of flesh itself.

Seras couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. Somehow that scene seemed vaguely familiar. But the vampire shook her head, clearing it of such nonsensical thoughts and jumped from the top of the building, descending to the street below. She thrust her left arm at the demon, the appendage dissolving into shadows and reforming itself into a long, dark lance.

The vampire was aiming for the demon's heart since she judged it to be a pretty universal weak spot, even among the undead and various demonic creatures. However, the demon sensed the threat just in time to jump to the left, dodging Seras's attack. The monster scowled at the vampire, the demon baring its teeth and its black fur standing on end.

It charged her, going for the throat, but Seras was able to pull back her shadow shifting arm and bat the monster away at the last second. It flew across the alleyway, impacting a dumpster and creating a large dent. The monster seemed momentarily stunned, and Seras intended to take full advantage of that.

Again the vampire aimed her left arm at the demon's heart, and Seras's victory seemed assured. But then the small cat leapt at the vampire's back. The little tabby dug its nails into the fabric of Seras's uniform and scaled her body just as it would the trunk of a tree. Seras attempted to shake the cat off of her even while thrusting her shadowed arm at the demon once more.

Ah, but the tabby was a determined little creature, it held tight; and then, reaching Seras's neck, it made a jump onto her face where it attacked with its mouth and all four paws in a rather desperate attempt to save the creature that had defended it against the vicious pit bull. And the desperate attack actually paid off.

Seras lost her concentration, and the dark lance lost its form, dissolving into nothing more than a swirling mass of shadows. It still struck the demon dog, driving the creature back into the dumpster, however the attack failed to pierce the monster's heart.

The demon shook off its second impact into the dumpster and growled loudly, all six of its eyes burning brightly. It leapt at the vampire just as she managed to pull the kitten from her face. But Seras didn't have time to doge the attack. She fell underneath the great, black demon dog, and it took the opportunity to clamp down into her left shoulder.

The vampire's blood poured into the demon dog's mouth, the blood loss preventing her from being able to shadow shift her left arm. The monster, perhaps sensing that it had succeeded in 'disarming' its opponent, released Seras's shoulder and moved its powerful jaws over to her exposed throat.

And Seras knew... she just knew she was about to die... again. However, just as her life began to flash before her eyes, the demon's nose wrinkled slightly; and rather than clamping down on Seras's throat, it lowered its nose to her neck and sniffed her repeatedly. Something was familiar about the vampire's scent. The demon knew it from somewhere; the monster was sure of it. And then... then recognition seemed to pass over the demon dog's face.

The monster wagged its tail and barked happily. Seras looked up with a confused expression, but then she noticed something familiar about the 'demon dog' too. It was his eyes. She knew those eyes... even if there were more of them than she was use to. "Master?"

By way of an answer, Baskerville took to slobbering doggy 'kisses' all over Seras's face. Seras stared up at the creature, an amazed expression plastered over her face; and the kitten looked on with a curious one across its own. First the strange, red-eyed, dog-like creature had shown a fondness for kittens, and now it seemed to be trying to make friends with the human-like creature that had just tried to kill it. Surely, there was something wrong with the great beast's reasoning capabilities.

Seras just continued trying to come to terms with the fact that, somehow, her master had become some form of hell hound and taken over eight city blocks of downtown London... all while simultaneously recovering at the mansion. It didn't make any sense... but then, when had her master **ever** made sense before?

As Seras finally accepted the fact that yes, the 'demon dog' was in deed her master, she suddenly felt rather uncomfortable as another realization dawned on her. Her master was perched on top of her, pinning her to the street, and licking her all over the face. This produced a strange, uneasy feeling in the fledgling vampire; and she responded by saying, "Master... Please, get off."

Baskerville made a final lick before complying with Seras's request and letting the vampire sit back up.

The fledgling's wounds had already regenerated, however she still felt a little lightheaded from the blood loss. She cast a stare over at the hell hound, which, no longer being able to lick her, had began to nuzzle the small, orange tabby.

Seras shook her head and let out a sigh. "Bloody hell." The fledgling exclaimed as she watched her master continue nuzzling the little kitten. "My life seems to just keep getting weirder and weirder, doesn't it?"

Baskerville let out a sharp, happy bark as if in response to Seras's question.

(Well, what did you think? I hope you enjoyed it. Please drop me a review and let me now. Thanks. Next chapter: **To Drive the Master Mad**: Alucard and Seras return to the mansion to inform Integra of their progress. Needless to say, she's a bit surprised by the fact that neither of them actually completed the mission... at least not in the way they were suppose to. And what's worse? Now the Hellsing knight has to deal with **two** Alucards. LoL. And we may also find out a little bit more about what's going on with Girly-Card.

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid.)


	6. Chapter 06: To Drive the Master Mad

**To Drive the Master Mad**

**AN: **Alright, nice long chapter for you guys this time. Hope you enjoy. ;)

The first orange-reddish rays of sunrise were just starting to streak the horizon as Seras reached the outskirts of downtown London. From the fledgling's left wrist a small, shadow like 'leash' emerged. It then passed through her hand and out into the neck of a great, dark furred and red eyed beast. Upon the great beast's back a small orange tabby was taking a little 'catnap', its body covered in a blanket of shadowy fur that served to both make it more comfortable and keep it from slipping off the monstrous canine's back.

The terrible beast, itself, almost appeared like a normal, if in-ordinarily large, dog. It had closed its extra sets of eyes and was keeping its head down, in an attempt to appear as normal as possible, as the fledgling led it through the London streets and back to the Hellsing Mansion.

But Baskerville did, eventually, raise his head. A sleazy looking man had taken to following them down the dark, nearly abandoned, night street. The great beast turned and locked eyes with the man, and to the man it seemed as if the creature's ember like eyes were burning through his body and staring directly into his dark soul. The beast growled a disapproving warning, and the man quickly turned around and doubled back, quite forgetting all the perverted things he'd wanted to do to the buxom woman.

As the man fled, Seras stopped. She squatted down so that she was eye-level with the beast. "You shouldn't have done that. We're getting close to the mansion, and we need to keep a low profile. If the rest of the round table find out that it was you who started that little canine revolution, Sir Integra will get into trouble. Besides, I knew the man was following me. Even as a bobby, I would've picked up on that. I could've handled him myself... in a way that wouldn't have attracted any attention."

Baskerville cast his eyes downward at the reprimand and let out a small, canine wine. Seras's stern face broke into a smile. She giggled and rubbed the top of the dog's head. "It's okay, um... Master."

Baskerville responded by wagging his tail and slurping Seras's hand, causing the fledgling to emit another little giggle before she stood back up. Seras lightly tugged on the leash. "Come on, Master, we're almost there."

* * *

In another part of the world, a man, with about three days worth of unshaved facial hair, sat at a bar. He sipped from his whiskey glass and stared intently at an old and wrinkled photo in his wallet, lightly tracing the smiling face of an elegant looking woman. To the other bar patrons, the man looked like any other man attempting to drown his problems in a sea of alcohol. Or at least he would've looked that way if any of them had cared enough to pay attention to him. However, none did, for they were all to preoccupied with their own problems to give a damn.

The man took another sip as his gaze shifted from the woman in the picture to the small, perhaps ten year old, girl by her side. The little girl was also smiling happily, completely oblivious of the fate that laid in store for her family.

The day after the picture had been taken, her father had shipped out on his latest deployment. Three days after that, a freakish man had wandered into the town, and after another week passed, the little girl and her mother were both turned into ghouls.

When the father came back from his deployment, he'd discovered that his home had become a ghost town. In a panicked frenzy he'd ran through the seemingly deserted town, trying to find someone who could tell him what had happened. But there seemed to be no one left.

As night fell, the streets began to fill again, and the father found that the towns residents hadn't really gone anywhere. They were only hiding, or perhaps sleeping, until sundown.

The man stared in awestruck disbelief as the streets swelled with walking corpses. They moaned as they staggered towards him, and as soon as the man's initial shock wore off, his training took over. That night had been **an almost literal** living hell for the man.

He still couldn't remember everything that had happened to him that night. All he remembered were flashes that seemed more like a terrible dream than an actual event in his life, flashes of scrambling to the cover of the local gun shop and making his stand within, of shooting down his friends and eventually his family, his own wife and daughter. He remembered the expression on his little girl's face as he put a bullet through her head, the vacant eyes, the lost, hopeless stare. That expression he remembered well, for he'd seen the same expression an another little girl's face earlier that day.

The man had eventually killed the vampire freak responsible for what had happened to his family; and with that death, the man had found a new calling in life. He never returned to his life in the Marines. Instead he traveled the globe hunting monsters that most people believed to be mere legends, eventually joining up with an ancient order of vampire hunters.

Never before had he thought twice about what he was doing. They were monsters, horrible, abominable creatures that deserved nothing more than death... and perhaps the peace it would bring to their tortured souls. But then, never before had he seen one so young. Never before had one looked up at him with the same expression his daughter held in her last moments of (un)life. Maybe he'd been wrong? Maybe there was something more to vampires than he'd believed?

No... He'd been right in his convictions. They were monsters. They deserved death. In fact, the man supposed, freeing them from their cursed life was the kindest thing anyone could do for them. The man rested his wallet on the bar and downed the rest of his drink in one gulp.

Yes, they deserved death... But then, that wasn't what his superiors were doing. They weren't killing that vampire. In fact, they'd prevented him from killing her. No, they were studying her... torturing her. And that... The man cast another look at his little girl's smiling face. That, she didn't deserve.

He stood up and placed the money for his drinks on the bar, tucking the bills under his empty glass. Then he folded up his wallet and, placing it in his back pocket, headed for the door. That little girl deserved the peace of death just as much as his own had, and he was going to insure she got it.

* * *

When Seras entered the mansion, she almost immediately bumped into Walter. "Oh, Miss Victoria, I'm glad to see you made it back safely. I was just about to go out, looking for yo-" Walter stopped mid-word as he noticed the great, dark beast 'leashed' to Seras's wrist. "Baskerville?" The butler asked.

The 'dog' wagged its tale and moved its head underneath the butler's hand, indicating that it wanted him to pet it. Walter complied as he turned his head back to Seras. "So... I take it this is the 'demon dog' that was terrorizing downtown London?"

Seras nodded. "Ahuh... but it's not really a demon dog. It's..."

"Your master in another form. Yes, I know. I've been around here for quite awhile, you know. Strange though," The butler continued as he ran his hand down the creature's back. "Alucard lost this form when he wa-" The butler's hand passed over a lump on the hound's back, a lump which began to move. "Dear me, and what do we have here?"

The little tabby had been woken up by the butler and was now wiggling around in an attempt to free itself from the make-shift pouch of fur that the hell-hound had formed around it. Baskerville shifted slightly as the panicking creature on its back accidentally dug its sharp claws into the hound's flesh. But the great beast did not seem terribly putout by the action. Still, it realized that the small tabby wanted its freedom and granted that wish, the hell hound's shadow fur swirling and pulling apart from around the small kitten.

"Bringing home stray kitten's again, are we?" The butler asked the hell hound.

But the beast did not reply; it seemed preoccupied with something else. It sniffed the air, curiously, having caught the trace of another familiar scent. The creature turned its head slightly and sniffed again. And then it seemed to become very hyper.

Baskerville barked, wagged his tail and jumped around as if mad. Seras did her best to calm the creature, but it was no good. He just started pulling her down the hallway. The fledgling firmly planted her feet. "No. Stay. Calm down." She attempted to order the dog that was her master.

But it did little good; and with a final leap, the shadow leash snapped. With a little grunt, Seras fell back, landing on her bottom, as the leash retracted back into her left arm and her master tore down the hallway.

Seras stood up and was just about to take off after the hell hound when the tabby let out a little meow. Quickly turning back, Seras scooped up the little kitty and deposited it into Walter's arms. "Take care of Fluffy until I get back, will you?"

"B-but, Miss Victoria, I-I-"

"Thanks, Walter. You're a dear." The fledgling said and kissed the butler lightly on his cheek before taking off after Baskerville. "Maaaaaster!!!"

Walter sneezed and then grabbed the little cat by the scruff of its neck. He held it as far away from his face as he could, but his eyes still started to water. He bent down and deposited the kitten on the floor, sneezing again before standing up. The butler sighed and shook his head. Next time he saw Seras, he'd have to tell her that he was allergic to cats.

* * *

"Oh... so **now** you want to renew your contract?" Integra was not pleased with the request. True, Michael Belmont was a talented and even decorated ex-employee. But he was also the only one in over fifty years to have quit Hellsing. Technically he had fulfilled his contract, but that was only a matter of semantics as far as the knight was concerned.

The few others who lasted long enough to fulfill their first contract always signed up again. If they fulfilled another contract they just renewed it again, and so on and so forth. Nobody left the Hellsing Organization... **ever**. Even in their golden years, they each found someway to contribute to the cause.

They knew what they were fighting for, and they devoted themselves to it, sacrificed themselves to the cause. But not Michael Belmont. No, he saw what was going on and, despite the fact that he could've been an even greater benefit than most of her employees, despite the fact that he had a better chance of survival, he ran away at the first opportunity. And because of that, Integra didn't really want him back.

"Look..." Michael started out with a slightly raised voice, but he instantly quieted down as Alucard emitted a low growl. "Sir,..." The sniper continued in a more respectful tone. "If I tell you what you want to know, they'll put a price on my head so fast that I'll have a dozen bounty hunters on my trail before I even leave this room." He exaggerated, but not by much.

"And so you want my organization to protect you?" The knight asked. "Witness protection is **not** a part of our job description. Our government has other branches to handle..."

"I am not some sniveling, slimy informant." The sniper cut in with a passion that was **not quite** far enough over the line to warrant another growl from Alucard. "Three years ago, I was one of your top agents... human agents anyway. I'm not asking for 'witness protection'. I'm asking for you to renew my contract. I can still be an asset to this organization." Michael paused for a moment; and when Integra failed to respond, he added, "Even more so than I was before. I've... learned some things on the outside."

"Indeed? And if you're so talented, such an 'asset', then why do you need my protection?"

"Because I haven't grown eyes in the back of my head..." The sniper paused and looked over at Alucard. "unlike some people." He stated before turning back to Integra. "Nor can I stay awake twenty-four/seven."

The knight didn't reply at first. Instead, she looked thoughtful for a moment, but then she relented. "Fine, I'll renew your contract." Michael breathed out a little sigh of relief before Integra continued in a sterner tone. "But you are not here as a protected informant. You are here as a soldier of the Hellsing Organization, and as such you are expected to contribute to England's protection the same way the rest of my men do. You'll not be lounging around the barracks while others sweat and bleed to keep you safe. You'll be standing beside them. Is that clear?" Integra asked, though it hardly sounded like a question.

"Yes, Sir." Michael replied and saluted, for once showing the appropriate amount of respect. And then he ruined it by adding, "All except for the barracks part. I'll not stay in the barracks."

"A common soldier's bed not good enough for you?" Integra asked, her words laced with venom.

"No. I don't care about the bed. It's the company I'd like to avoid." As the sniper saw the glare the knight was giving him, he was quick to add, "The Order will put a very large bounty on my head, and some of your men **may be** tempted to collect."

Integra's face failed to soften. If anything, she looked angrier. "You doubt the loyalty of my men?"

Michael took a deep, calming breath and replied softly, "Even Christ had his Judas."

Integra eyed the sniper for a moment. "I suspect I've already had mine." She replied before pausing to rub her temples. "Fine... If you will not sleep in the barracks with my men, then you will lie in the basement with my monsters."

Michael cast a quick look over at Alucard, the wheels in the sniper's head turning. Once again, he was attempting to determine the course of action least likely to put him in a body bag. "Monster**s**?" The sniper questioned the use of the plural.

"My master refers to my fledgling and I." Alucard explained.

"You have a fledgling now?" Micheal asked. "Does she understand the rule about not 'feeding' off Sir Integra's employees?"

The vampire chuckled. "Oh, you have nothing to fear from her. I can't get her to even drink the blood of our enemies. A very strange vampire, that one is. It took months before she'd even use the blood packets."

Michael still looked unsure. He didn't have a habit of trusting new people. It was one of the things that had helped him survive as a freelancer. Still, he knew of certain things that could be done to help insulate his room against vampires. Those tricks would not work against humans, especially since he wouldn't even get his own room if he lodged in the barracks. Finally he turned back to Integra. "Better the devil you know. Fine, I'll stay in the basement."

Alucard cut in. "Good. Now that you two have that settled, about the organization that put a hit out on that broker?"

Michael opened his mouth. But before he had a chance to answer, the office door was thrown open, and a large, black beast jumped atop Integra's desk. Before the knight could protest it began licking her all over the face. She reached out, grabbing the hound's head and attempted to push it away, but her efforts did little good.

The knight started sputtering in protest as she turned her head to keep the dog's tongue from accidentally entering her mouth. "S-s-to... G-get o-o...f."

Michael was too shocked to do anything to help the knight and Alucard, unable to control himself, had burst out into a fit of laughter. Luckily, Seras was not far behind her doggy-master. She quickly ran into the room and helped pull Baskerville back from Integra. Between the two of them, they managed to get the hound just far enough away from Integra's face for the knight to issue a order. "Stop!" She yelled with authority; and the beast instantly complied.

No longer did Baskerville try to lick his master. Instead he just stood there, on-top of her desk. Integra stared at the creature for a moment; and then, recognizing it as one of her 'pet's' other forms, the knight commanded, "Down, boy."

Baskerville leapt off the table, but continued to stare at his master, just waiting for another order. Integra turned to Alucard, who had finally managed to contain his laughter. "Mind explaining this, Vampire?"

"In truth, Master, I have no explanation."

"What do you mean you have no explanation? This is Baskerville, is it not?" The knight growled at Alucard as she pointed a finger at the hell hound. The latter just cocked its head to the side for a moment, as if studying the digit. Then, not knowing what else to do, it rolled out its tongue and licked its master's finger. Integra grimaced and pulled the finger back, wiping it on her suit.

"It would seem to be." Alucard answered as he began to move towards the beast. "However, I lost this form after that blasted archer attacked me. Though, now that 'Baskerville' has returned..." The vampire continued as he extended a shadowy hand towards the hound. "It's time to put it back where it belon-"

Alucard stopped talking as a growling hell hound jumped up and bit the still fleshy part of his arm. For a moment, the vampire just stood there, staring strangely at the beast who had its teeth sunk into his flesh. But then, the hound let go of the arm, deciding to tackle Alucard's body instead.

And as the two rolled around the office floor, biting and growling at each other in a display that was every bit as gory as it was utterly ridiculous, Integra rubbed her temples again. "And they were such nice, simple missions too, kill a demon and bring back an informant. Why do things always have to become such a bloody mess?" The knight asked no one in particular as she briefly wondered why she couldn't just be the head of some normal government agency, like MI-6? Why did she have to deal with all the insanity? Finally, as the tumbling pair bumped into Arthur's old liquor cabinet and knocked several bottles of expensive burgundy to the floor, Integra exclaimed, "Alucard, stop fighting with yourself!"

The pair instantly ceased their struggle, and they both stared at their master. Integra sighed and removed one of her most expensive cigars from the case on her desk. No one else moved or spoke. All of the knight's employees knew that when she was stressed enough to brake out one of her green labeled, hand rolled, Cuban cigars, no one had better do anything that could possibly push her any further. In fact even Michael, who still required air to survive, literally held his breath, while he waited for Integra to light up and take her first drag.

(Well, what did you think? I hope you enjoyed it. Please drop me a review and let me now. Thanks.

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid.)

* * *

To maroongrad: Thanks for the review. I'm glad you've been having fun with my fics and think they stay amusing even after more multiple reads. :) But, you know, I actually think this might be my slowest moving story. :P Either this one or Maternal Instinct. But I'm still trying to keep it entertaining, and I'm glad you've enjoyed it so far. Hope you continue to. ;)


	7. Chapter 07: Know Thine Enemy

**Know Thine Enemy**

**AN: **I'm sorry it's taken me longer than normal to update. It's just... just that... I HATE THIS BLOODY CHAPTER!!! I really, really do. It's all talk... and not even interesting talk, just back story and explanations. Unfortunately... very, very unfortunately I need this chapter so that everyone will understand what happens in the rest of the story. *Sigh* Well, I've done my best to interject some humor here and there. Hopefully it's not too stale.

Integra took the first long drag of her new cigar and then paused, for a moment, before blowing out a long stream of grey smoke. She let out a little sigh as the nicotine began its calming effect, and only then did she focus her attention back on the 'people' in her office. "Okay, this is what we're going to do... First of all we need to find out just what we've gotten involved with." The knight cast a look over at the sniper. "So, tell us everything you know about the ones who hired you to kill the broker."

Michael finally sucked in a deep breath of air. "They call themselves the Order of Virtuous Blood, and they're an ancient brotherhood of vampire hunters." Belmont began.

"Like the Iscariots?" Integra asked.

Micheal hesitated and thought for a moment. The smell of Integra's cigar permeated the air in the room, giving it a robust and slightly sweet scent, and the sniper almost lost himself in the smell. But then he shook his head slightly and snapped himself back to reality. "Um, something like them, yes... but the Order has been around much longer. If the writings of their own histories are to be believed, they've were formed centuries before the Tower of Babel, where the Lord confused mankind's language and divided the people. Some of their earliest record books even make mention of dealing with elves and other creatures of myth and ancient legend."

"That's fascinating." Integra cut in. "But it's not relevant. I'm interested in the organization's capabilities and resources... not its history."

"Understood, Sir." Michael nodded. "Well, because they've been around for so long, they know arcane arts which are all but forgotten by the rest of the world. They also have almost unlimited funds, possessing enough alchemical knowledge to transform certain, lesser valued, metals into gold and silver. As for man power, they've got, maybe, three or four hundred full fledged members... and a lot of freelancers."

"How many is 'a lot'?" The knight asked, sounding a little perturbed. A lot? That did her a lot of bloody good. She needed actual numbers if she was going to end up taking on the Order.

"Well, I don't know... exactly." Micheal answered through grit teeth. He wasn't even a full fledged member himself, how could she expect him to know how many other freelancers the Order farmed jobs out to? She was being unreasonable. Alucard and Baskerville both turned to the sniper, casting him disapproving stares.

Michael took a deep breath and then continued in a calmer tone. "But I doubt you'll have to worry about them. Most of the freelancers are like me. They're just out to pull some quick jobs and get paid. They won't want to get involved in a full blown war."

Integra sighed and hoped her new 'informant' was right. Although sometimes necessary, it was still foolish to go to battle without knowing what size force your enemy could field. "Fine, lets move on then. If this... 'Order' is into vampire hunting, it's reasonable to assume that they're the ones behind the attack on Alucard." Integra paused briefly. But no one saw fit to question the logic behind her reasoning, and so the knight continued, "Now, given the fact that they wanted that broker dead, I think it's also reasonable to assume that the man who attacked Alucard was a freelancer; and the broker was the 'go between'."

"Makes sense." Michael cut in. "But if that's the case, then it wasn't a simple hit. Going after Big Red was part of a much larger plan. Standard hits are posted on cryptic, online bulletin boards. Anyone who thinks they can handle the hit is free to do so. But important mission are usually kept 'in house'. If they used a broker to farm a contract out to a specific freelancer, they must have been pretty desperate for someone with unique skills." Michael's hand went up to his chin, and he stroked his facial stubble in a thoughtful manner. Then he turned to Alucard. "Can you describe the person who attacked you?"

"He was dressed in dark clothes, wore a hood over his face and wielded an old style bow." The vampire replied.

"Crossbow, or standard design?"

"Standard."

"And he was local." Seras piped in helpfully. "Or at least he spent enough time here to pick up English expressions."

Michael nodded. "Alright. I've only heard of two agents, freelance or otherwise, who still use standard bows as their preferred weapons. Did the archer wear what looked like regular clothes, or animal hide?"

"Regular clothes." Alucard replied.

"Why?" Seras asked with a curious expression on her face.

"Because the 'Huntsman' dresses in a cuirass made out of the hide of a long extinct animal. It's said that it was bestowed by a powerful Daedric Prince as a reward for bringing him 'trophies'." Michael replied.

Alucard thought that Micheal had said that last word a little strangely, and the vampire called him on it. "Trophies?"

The sniper sighed. "He brags that Hircine, the Daedric Prince of the hunt, appeared to him in a dream and challenged him to collect ten pairs of vampire fangs... in order to prove his worth as a 'true hunter'."

"Excuse me, what's a Day-drac?" Seras cut in, her hand raised like a little schoolgirl.

"That's... a very complicated question." Micheal replied. "Um, you know how the Catholic's have their list of Patron Saints?" Seras nodded. "Well, the Daedra are kind of like the Saint's polar opposites. Each of the Daedric Princes have their own 'realm' to rule over; but unlike the Saints, who are tied to Godly ideals, most of the Daedra are connected with things like lust, greed, madness and the like."

"So... evil Saints?" Integra asked.

Micheal's face scrunched up. "That's a bit of an oversimplification. They're not exactly 'evil', more selfish than anything... but it's the best analogy I can come up with... Anyway, the Huntsman gladly accepted the challenge; and if his own boasting is to be believed, he managed to defang one vampire each night, not an easy accomplishment when you figure that dead vampires turn to dust.

"The only way to get the fangs was to avoid all lethal shots and manage to pin the vampire down or trap it long enough to rip the fangs out of its head, all without getting bitten. He says that upon completion of Hircine's challenge, the Daedric Prince rewarded him with a unique cuirass which makes him resistant to magic. Now the Huntsman's given to bragging and boasting, but one thing's for sure. He never goes on a 'hunt' without that smelly animal hide. So, he's obviously not the one who attacked Big Red. That just leaves the Phantom."

"The Phantom?" Integra asked. Huntsman, Phantom, these people sounded more like clichéd comic book characters than actual vampire hunters. What was next, a 'Terminator', 'Punisher' and 'Blade'?

"Yeah. They call him that because he has a tendency to just vanish into thin air, after completing a mission... or if he needs to make a quick get away. And if he's the one you're looking for... Trust me, we'll have better luck just going after the Order directly. The Phantom is very, very good at hiding."

Integra scoffed. "Yeah, with a name like the 'Phantom', I kind of figured that." She replied in a patronizing tone. "So... how do we find this Order and hurt them?"

"That... may be a little difficult. I don't know where their main headquarters is..." Michael replied; and Integra narrowed her eyes, casting a 'then what good are you' look at the sniper. "However," Michael was quick to continue, "I've kept records on every contact point one of their agents has ever met me at. I might be able to cross-reference them and get a good idea of where their local branch, assuming they have one, is located."

Integra nodded in approval. "Alright... So, where are these records?"

"Laptop back at my hotel." Micheal answered as he started to make his way to the office door. "I'll go pick it up, and..."

"Wait." Integra cut in. "Police Girl, you go with him."

"Me?" Seras asked as she pointed at herself.

Integra's eyes narrowed at the fledgling, but the knight didn't say anything. She didn't have to. Seras was a smart girl, and she knew that it wasn't wise to question her boss's orders. "Uh, yes, Sir. Going, Sir." The fledgling snapped to attention and fired off a quick salute.

Seras had been up since before sunset, and it was already a couple of hours past dawn. All she really wanted to do right then was go rest. It wasn't just that she'd been up for a while; it was also that, since her 'turning', Seras had noticed that the sunlight seemed to drain away her energy and make her feel fatigued. But no one refused an order from Sir Integra. So the fledgling respectfully consented to complete another short mission before crawling into her coffin for some 'sleep'.

Micheal also seemed to have objections to the arrangement, though. "What, you don't trust me to come back, think I need an escort?"

"Oh, I don't think you'll try to run off." Integra cooed. "You're too smart for that. You know what would happen to you if you did." Micheal cast a look over at Alucard and Baskerville, who both returned toothy smiles, and the sniper couldn't help but gulp. "However," Integra continued, "you haven't grown eyes in the back of your head, remember? And I want to insure that that Laptop makes it here safely."

"Course you do." Micheal replied. "Well, could you, at least, send Big Red instead?"

The fledgling huffed, and her hands went to her hips. As much as she didn't want to go on another mission, she still found the idea that someone would feel safer around her master a bit insulting. After all, **he** was the sadistic monster who got a thrill out of draining people. **She** only drank blood packets.

Alucard just broke out into a fit of laughter, and even Integra chuckled a little before replying, "Don't worry. She's not like that... besides Alucard and Baskerville are staying here for now. I've got some experiments I want to run on them, see if we can figure out exactly what's happened to them."

Alucard promptly stopped his laughing; and he and Baskerville both gave each other strange looks as the word "experiment" caught their attention.

Micheal just sighed and lowered his head. "Fine." He continued towards the office door. "Come on, Police Girl."

Seras followed, but bristled at the idea of another person calling her by that nickname. She'd have to have a little talk with Micheal. Her master and his master were one thing, but she was not about to let the foot soldiers start referring to her as 'Police Girl'. She had a name; and damn it, **someone** was going to call her by it!

* * *

In another part of the world, a lone figure crept into a large kitchen. He was crouched low, moving stealthily from one hiding spot to another. The figure stopped as he heard the sound of someone walking in his direction. He was out of the man's line of sight, but any sound could still give him away.

He stayed put and held his breath until the foot steps retreated. Then the man poked his head out from behind the long counter. His goal was finally in sight. He knew he'd never be able to get one of the large, marble doors open by himself. But there was another way into where they were holding the vampire.

The kitchen used a 'dumbwaiter' to lower food down to the dungeons, and that was his ticket in. The ex-marine firmly gripped his shotgun then stuck his head up and looked around. Finding the coast clear, he made his way to the dumbwaiter, opened it up, got in and began to lower himself down towards the dungeons.

(Well, once again, I'm sorry. This was a very dull chapter. In fact, the only thing I really like about this chapter is the title... But like I said, it was a needed chapter. I promise that the next one will be better... I just hope some of you actually stick around for it.

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid.)


	8. Chapter 08: A Long Night

**A Long Night's Day**

**AN: **Okay, sorry if I'm a little bit late, but I've got another long one for you this time. Hope you enjoy.

As Seras and Michael exited Integra's office and made their way to the mansion's garage, they didn't bother to say two words to each other. The silence was finally broken as Seras opened up the driver's side door of the vehicle they'd be using to reach the hotel. "In the future, I would appreciate it if you didn't call me 'Police Girl'."

Michael seemed a little surprised by the request, which, to him, seemed to have come right out of the blue. As he opened up the front passenger's door and entered the car, his eyebrow arced up. "Huh?"

"In Sir Integra's office, you called me Police Girl." Seras replied.

And Michael's face flashed in understanding. "Oh... that." He spoke in a guarded tone, though there was a slightly nervous edge to it. "Sorry, everyone else was calling you 'Police Girl'. I just thought it was normal." He apologized.

"Well, it... it is normal... for Master and Sir Integra. But... But I..."

"But you don't want the rank and file soldiers calling you that?" Michael asked, his voice carrying a note of understanding, rather than insult.

Seras nodded in agreement. For once it seemed like someone was actually taking her seriously without her first having to display her superior strength or speed. Though she figured that at least a portion of the 'respect' she was getting was likely caused by the fact that the man seemed worried she might suck his blood. What an utterly ridiculous thing to be concerned with. She wasn't like that.

"So... what do you want to be called?" Michael asked.

At first Seras thought about telling him to call her by her first name, but she quickly dismissed the idea. First names were for friends not soldiers who had just met. "Officer Victoria would be acceptable." She replied, and he nodded. A few more seconds of silence passed before Seras continued. "So, how about you? What's your name?"

"Michael." The sniper replied and cautiously extended a hand.

Seras shook it. She smiled. "You know, you really don't have to be afraid. I don't suck blood."

"So they tell me; so they tell me."

"But you don't believe it, do you?"

"Officer Victoria, I've been hunting vampires for nearly seven years, four of which were spent at Hellsing, almost a year of which as one's partner... at least on certain missions. I'd like to think I've got a pretty good handle on vampires. And, other than a series of extremely bad novels from across the pond, I've never heard of one who didn't suck human blood, at least on occasion."

Seras looked away from the sniper and focused her eyes back on the road, though she was perfectly capable of keeping track of it with just her sixth sense. The two traveled in silence a bit longer, but then Seras commented, "But you trust my master."

"**Trust**..." The sniper replied, drawing the word out a bit more than was common. "Isn't exactly the right word. I... understand him, well the basic stuff at least. I know his motivations and feel fairly confident that I can predict what he'll do." Michael paused for a moment and then added, "I don't know you." The statement wasn't said accusingly, but rather as a simple fact. Still, it seemed to bother Seras; and other than Michael directing her which roads to use, the two spent the rest of the ride in silence.

There really wasn't much to say about the hotel. It was nice and clean but not extravagant. It seemed like the kind of place a mid-level businessman might stay at. Michael led Seras to his room, pulled a keycard from his pocket and slid the magnetic strip into the card reader, unlocking the door.

As the pair stepped inside, Seras noticed that the laptop was just sitting on a small table, in plain view of anyone who was to walk in; and she thought that somewhat out of place, given how careful Michael seemed to be. "Well, that wasn't much of a job." She sardonically commented as she walked over and picked up the computer.

Meanwhile, Michael walked around the bed and retrieved a Bible from the nightstand. He left ten pounds in the book's place, reasoning that he had more need of it than the next person who would stay in the room but not wanting to risk outright stealing the Holy object. The sniper then reached back into his pocket and extracted a Swiss-army-knife. Without a word, he walked over to the far wall and began to unscrew one of the light switch covers.

Seras raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

"You didn't really think I'd stash my information out in the open like that, did you?"

"So, what? You've got another laptop hidden inside the light switch?"

Michael chuckled. "Something like that." He replied and then, having already removed the cover, went to work unscrewing the fixture box.

Seras just continued to stare as Michael finished with the fixture box and pulled it out, until it hung by the cords running into it. He reached his hand into the wall and felt around for a bit, then he pulled out a small, four inch by two and a half inch, metal devise. "What's that?" Seras asked.

"Another laptop... sort of. Actually, it's a laptop hard drive." Michael replied as he gently took the computer from Seras's hands. He flipped it over and put it down on the bed.

Seras watched as Michael took out four more screws, only from the laptop this time. He then extracted another four inch by two and a half inch metal devise, which he replaced with the one he'd retrieved from the wall.

"Alright. Just let me put the light switch back in; and we'll be ready to go, okay?" Michael asked, and Seras nodded. Then she looked over, and a small basket of fruit caught her eye.

The sniper seemed to notice this and commented, "Help yourself. It's just going to go to waste anyway."

"I... Uh, can't. I can't eat that kind of stuff anymore."

Michael cast a funny look at Seras. "I've seen your master eat oranges before."

The vampire's face seemed to light up. "Really?" She asked in a hopeful tone.

"Yeah." Michael replied and paused. "Well, sort of." He continued as Seras picked up an orange.

"What do you mean 'sort of'?" Seras asked, her brow furled.

"You bite through the skin and suck the juice, the same way you would human blood. Then throw the shriveled, little shell that's left into the garbage can."

Suddenly Seras's face fell. She looked at the orange again, but somehow the sniper's analogy had caused her to loose her appetite. She put the fruit back into the basket.

And Michael, puzzled expression plastered over his face, just stared at her for a minute. "You really are... different." The sniper finally replied, and Seras made a little smile.

* * *

The ex-Marine slowly slid the dumbwaiter open and peaked his head out. He looked to the left and then the right. Finding no one coming from either direction, the man stepped out of the dumbwaiter. First he removed his shoes, tied the laces together and hung them across his shoulder. Then he crouched low as he made his way down the stone corridor.

He hadn't gone far when he heard the light smacking sound of a pair of boots falling and rising from the stone floor. The man hugged the wall to his right and slowly peaked his head around the corner and down another corridor.

There was a guard down that path. He had a gun in his hand. The ex-Marine didn't have a good enough view to properly identify the weapon; but from what he could see of it, he guessed it was some type of submachine gun.

Fortunately, for him though, the guard was in the middle of a patrol and currently facing in the other direction. The ex-Marine grinned, slung the strap of his shotgun over his free shoulder and silently stalked up behind the other man.

The guard never knew what hit him. One second he was walking his patrol, and the next a strong arm was wrapped around his neck, catching him in a blood choke. He tried to fire his gun. If nothing else, the sound would alert the other guards, drawing their attention to him. But the weapon was jerked out of his hands as soon as he thought to fire it. He would've called for help, but he had run out of time.

A blood choke typically incapacitates a person within five seconds, and he'd already passed the four and a half mark. He was lightheaded, and his world became nothing but darkness as consciousness faded away.

The ex-Marine slowly lowered the guard's body to the floor then carefully continued onward. He took out two more guards in a similar fashion and was pleasantly surprised by the fact that he'd managed to come so far without having to resort to any lethal tactics.

After taking out the third guard, the man found what he was looking for. In a cell beside where the third guard fell, the ex-marine saw the face of the vampire girl who's escape he'd prevented. Taking the key from the guard's belt, the man opened the door and stepped inside the cell.

The vampire looked over at the man. She must've recognized him, for her eyes narrowed. "You." She growled. "What are you doing here?"

The man stepped closer to the vampire and noticed that her body was being secured to an angled, flat slab of stone by a magic barrier. _Taking extra precautions this time_, he thought as he unslung his shotgun.

The man aimed the weapon at the vampire's head and answered her question. "I've come to end your misery."

The vampire stared at the barrel for a moment. At first, her face was an unreadable sea of emotions, but then it settled down into a sad but resigned expression. She summoned up her courage and asked, "So, what are you waiting for?" The question was not asked in a challenging tone, but rather one like a man about to be executed might use if he were tired and just wanted the thing over and done with.

The ex-Marine gulped. "Close your eyes." He replied, his voice laced with a bit more sympathy than he'd intended.

And the vampire did just that. She half laid, half stood there, eyes closed and waiting for the shot that would end her life... or at least the only three days of it she could remember. And then the shot came, but something wasn't right.

She was still alive. She wasn't even hurt. After a few seconds of surprise, the vampire reopened her eyes to find that the small statue that had projected the magical barrier had been half melted in on itself.

She pushed against the slab, propelling herself into a full standing position and turned to the man who's shotgun was still aimed at the melted statue. The vampire was shocked. "You... you didn't kill me. Instead, you released me, why?" She asked.

The man turned to her with almost as shocked an expression upon his own face. He opened his mouth, but it was several seconds before any words formed. When they did, his only answer was, "Because I am a fool."

And then the two heard the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching. The other nearby guards, having heard the sound of the shotgun blast, were rushing to investigate.

* * *

The sun had already reached the apex of its journey through the sky by the time Seras, feeling more exhausted than she had since first acclimating to her new life as a nocturnal creature, finally entered her basement chamber. The fledgling nearly stumbled to her coffin-like bed and flipped the switch that would raise the top of it.

As soon as the lid was raised high enough, the tired fledgling flopped down onto the soft mattress. At least Sir Integra had provided her with a comfortable resting place. Seras was very grateful that she was not expected to 'sleep' in a cheap, pine box.

The fledgling closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of the clean, freshly laundered sheets. Then she opened her eyes back up, and an annoyed expression passed over her face. "I need a shower." Seras groaned into her pillow and then forced herself to get out of her 'bed' and head to the bathroom, which was attached to her chamber.

She took a pair of pajamas out of her linen closet, laid them on the counter, by the sink, and then walked over to the shower. Seras turned the water on and stripped off her uniform as she waited for the stream to reach a comfortable temperature. A half minute later, she stepped into the shower and began to wash away the grime, dirt, dried blood and sweat that clung to her body.

Once again, the fledgling felt grateful, grateful that her chamber came with a private bathroom. She could only imagine the perverted things her master might try if the two of them were expected to share one. Though, now that she thought about it, Seras wasn't even sure if her master bothered with things like showers. Given his abilities, perhaps he simply 'ghosted' his body through any unwanted filth.

Seras shrugged. It didn't really matter. Even if her master didn't need to shower, the fledgling was confident that he'd find some excuse to use the facilities if he shared them with her. He was a pervert, _like most all men_, she thought. Though in the case of her master, he seemed more interested in teasing her and making her blush, rather than actually 'bedding' her; and for a moment, Seras wondered about that.

From what she'd learned about the relationship between vampire fledglings and their 'sires', she doubted she'd have much say in the matter if her master ever decided to truly press the issue; and she briefly wondered why he hadn't. Was it just that he wasn't really interested in her... 'that way', that he only 'teased' her because he liked to see her flustered? Or was something else behind his seeming reluctance to fully press his advantage?

Seras wondered if perhaps he actually did respect her... not enough to keep him from making jokes and harassing her, but enough so that he wouldn't go as far as to actually force anything on her. After all, even when it came to her becoming a vampire, he'd given her a choice. When later he'd told her to drink his blood and become a true Nosferatu, once again, he'd left the final decision up to her, offering the blood that dripped down his arm but not forcing it on her.

The first offer she'd accepted, though reluctantly. The second one she'd refused. And as Seras's hands moved over her body, lathering it with soap and washing it clean; she wondered what she would do if her master approached her with a third offer, one that, if accepted, would end up with them sharing a coffin.

Even now she wasn't sure what her answer would be. She was certainly attracted to him: his wild mane of hair; elegant, aristocratic features; and that long, serpentine tongue...* The fledgling stopped and shook her head as she realized her train of thought was starting down a rather 'naughty' railway, and she attempted to get it back on track.

Yes, there was no point in denying that she found her master attractive. Still, she knew enough about him to be wary. She was a virgin, and he was a monster. And the idea of him being the one to finally end up taking her 'innocence' was... intimidating.

Would he be gentle, could he be? If not, would the eventual pleasure be enough to make up for the pain? And what would happen to her afterward? Would he lose interest in her, discard her and begin searching for a new virgin to conquer? Or would he stay with her? And if he stayed, would it simply be because he wanted more... or because he genuinely cared for her?

The fledgling was finally roused from her musings as her enhanced hearing caught the sound of an incessant knocking at her chamber door. Seras quickly turned off the water. "Coming!" She shouted as she exited the shower. Then she quickly dried herself off and began to hop into the bottom half of her pajamas.

"Just... just a minute!" Seras yelled as she pulled her pajama bottoms up and threw the top over her head. She rushed to the door while poking her arms through the sleeves. And all the while, the incessant knocking continued. If anything, it only grew the more insistent.

Finally Seras reached her door and quickly flung it open, finding a horrible sight awaiting her on the other side. There Walter stood. His eyes were red and the space underneath them was puffy and swollen. There were little red bumps scattered across his face; and despite the English butler's best attempts to remain respectable, the area between his nose and mouth was obviously wet.

"Walter! What... what's happened to you?!" Seras exclaimed. Despite her experience with ghouls and other undead horrors and the tolerance she'd built up to such disturbing sights, the fledgling was still taken back by Walter's appearance. He looked ghastly, and it obviously wasn't the result of any supernatural force.

"M-miss Victoria, p-please..." The butler began but sneezed loudly, his head jerking down uncontrollably, before he could finish. Walter stared up at Seras with an embarrassed and apologetic look on his face then raised his head back up. "Please, take back Fluffy." The butler nearly pleaded while extending one of his hands, the hand holding the little tabby, towards the fledgling. Walter sneezed again.

And Seras's eyes went wide as she realized what was going on. The fledgling quickly took the orange kitty from the butler. "Oh, Walter, I'm... I'm so sorry! I-I had no idea you were allergic!" Seras quickly stammered out in apology. "Why didn't you say something?"

"I-I tried, Miss Victoria, but... but you..." Walter's reply was interrupted by another loud sneeze. He took a handkerchief from his pocket, blew his nose into it and wiped. There were tears in his eyes now as he continued, "You ran off before I could."

"Oh, Walter, I'm so sorry." Seras apologized again.

And Walter, graciously, accepted. "Oh, don't worry about it, Miss. I have been through worse, you know." He replied while backing away from the dreaded tabby. "Just, please, find someone else to babysit Fluffy next time, okay?"

Seras smiled in embarrassment. "Oh, yes... Of course."

"Thank you, Miss." Walter replied as he lowered his head in a little bow. "And now, if there's nothing else, I think I'm going to go lay down... I feel a headache coming on." He informed.

"No, nothing else..." Seras replied, and Walter began to walk away. The fledgling leaned out of her room and called out after him. "But thank you!" She said.

And Walter turned back for a moment. He flashed her a smile. "My pleasure," he politely lied, "Miss Victoria." And then the butler ascended the staircase, disappearing from sight.

Seras retreated back into her room and, after closing her door, went over to her 'bed'. Once more, she flopped down on the mattress. The shower had given her a temporary boost in energy, and the sight of Walter's condition had prolonged that high. But now, Seras felt her exhaustion overtaking her once more.

She closed her eyes, only to have them open up again as she felt something tugging on the fabric of her pajamas. The fledgling looked down to find Fluffy pulling on her top. It seemed the tabby did not share her exhaustion. The kitty was just a furry, little ball of energy, and it wanted to play.

Seras groaned at the cat. "No, not now." She mumbled into her pillow as she attempted to bury her head in it. But Fluffy was persistent in its play, and Seras began to wonder if she'd ever get to sleep. Then a little light bulb went off above the fledgling's head, and she decided to try something.

Seras locked eyes with the kitty. "You are getting sleepy, very very sleepy." The fledgling knew that vampires eventually manifested hypnotic abilities, and she hoped... prayed that she'd been one long enough to have started developing them herself. "Your eye lids are getting heavy. You are tired, very very tired." Seras continued, and Fluffy yawned.

The fledgling smiled in triumph. "That's right. Very tired. Now, you will go to sleep and stay asleep until sundown." The kitty let out another yawn, and then curled up into a little ball and closed its eyes. Seras's head went back to her pillow; and the entire mattress sunk down, into the floor, as the lid closed.

The fledgling was just starting to drift off into sweet oblivion when her mattress was suddenly and roughly jerked. The fledgling's eyes shot open, and she quickly sat up... only to be slobbered by a doggy 'kiss' from Baskerville.

"Oh no, Master. Please, not now. I don't want to play. I'm tired, and I just want to get some sleep." Seras pleaded in a whiny tone. Why were the fates conspiring against her? What had she done to warrant this?

But, to Seras's surprise, Baskerville retreated to the foot of her mattress, spun around three times and then laid himself down, curling up by her feet. At first Seras leaned forward and pushed against the beast. "No, Master. You can't sleep here." She stated firmly. But Baskerville was a heavy 'dog' and a stubborn one. For some reason, even Seras's enhanced strength, failed to move him from his spot.

The most the fledgling could accomplish was to cause the upper part of Baskerville's body to rock back and forth; and after a moment, Seras gave up. She was simply too tired to go on. "Fine." She sighed. "You can sleep here, but only for today... and don't you dare try anything." The doggy raised its head and stared at the fledgling with a curious expression.

Seras brought her hand up and struck her palm against her forehead. "Bloody hell. I'm warning a dog not to try anything with me; I'm becoming just as much of a loony as the rest of them." She exclaimed before laying back down again.

Baskerville grinned at her, and then buried his head in his paws.

( Well, I really hope you enjoyed this chapter. It was pretty long and took me a awhile to write. Please review and let me know what you thought of it. Thanks.

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid.)

*Special thanks to Lila for 'donating' this line. :)


	9. Chapter 09: Something Lost

**Something Lost**

Five guard's burst into the room, but before they had a chance to aim their weapons, the newly freed vampire was already charging at them. She was a nearly indistinguishable blur of movement; and before the guards could adjust, she'd already fallen upon one of them. The vampire pinned the guard to the stone floor and sunk her fangs into his neck.

The other guards were finally able to take aim and fire. The silver rounds riddled the vampire's body, and blood squirted everywhere. But it didn't matter. The vampire was feeding, and she could easily regenerate her wounds faster than the guards could inflict them.

The man beneath her just squirmed, moaned and writhed. He wasted away until there was nothing left but a dried out husk. Then the vampire raised her head, the last drops of the guard's blood forming a trickle that defied gravity as it flowed up and through her slurping lips. She grabbed an automatic rifle out of the whithered corpse's limp hand, and her eyes flashed red as she began to unload its clip into the other four guards.

The ex-Marine just stood where he'd been when the guard's burst into the room. He stared, wide-eyed, at the carnage that was being inflicted by the creature he'd freed a moment earlier. The man had seen far more than his fair share of bloodshed. A life in the Marines and then, later, hunting down vampires wasn't exactly a peaceful one. He'd even seen vampires in the throws of blood-lust before, but this was different. He'd freed this creature, and that meant that he felt responsible for the blood she was spilling and drinking.

And while the ex-Marine just stood there and did nothing to stop the carnage, two very different voices argued in his head. One said that what he was seeing was only the proof of what he'd always suspected. Vampires were monsters, killers... parasites who only existed to feed off the death and torment of others. That voice scolded him for not killing the creature when she'd been helpless and he'd could've easily done so.

But the other voice countered that the vampire had been imprisoned, tortured and experimented on. Her actions were not those of a monster, but simply those of a 'normal' human who had the opportunity to repay her tormentors. And the ex-Marine really didn't know which voice had the better argument.

As the two voices continued to argue in the ex-Marine's head, the vampire finished dispatching the last of the five guards. She started for the door but then stopped and turned back towards the man who'd freed her. He instinctively raised his shotgun and trained it on her, but she just rolled her eyes in response. "Are you coming... or would you rather stay and try to explain this to your bosses?"

The man's brow furrowed for moment, but then he lowered the weapon back to his side and decided that helping the vampire through the rest of her escape was his best option. He could never explain what had happened. He'd be labeled a traitor, which he actually was, and executed. And trying to hide his part in things was out of the question.

The mages would know he'd been there. He'd been a member of the Order long enough to know that after leaving a place a small trace of one's life energy remained there for several hours. The mages could detect that trace, and they could match it to the person it came from.

No, the ex-Marine's life in the Order had ended as soon as he'd set the vampire free. Now all that he could do was try to escape the fortress that had once been his safe haven, and he had a better chance of doing that along side the young vampire than he did on his own. And so, the two fled the fortress together.

The vampire did most of the fighting; the ex-Marine had some trouble bringing himself to shoot at those who had been his allies for so long. Fortunately, the pair did not encounter anyone who the ex-Marine was actually friends with. He wasn't sure what would've happened if they had.

It was one thing to hear the death rattles of nameless faces who'd simply pledged their loyalty to the same masters as you. It was quite another to be confronted by someone you knew, were friends with and had bled alongside of. But, luckily for him, it was late and the only people already up and armed were the fortress's nighttime patrols.

It also made the escape itself a bit easier. The pair were able to reach the underground garage without having to face any magic wielding mages. However, simply reaching the garage did not solve their problems.

As the pair ran to and got in the ex-Marine's car, a nineteen eighty-nine, blue Thunderbird Super Coupe, several of their pursuers piled into their own vehicles. The chase through the Order fortress had become a high speed pursuit through the streets of Istanbul.

Thanks to the fact that the ex-marine was a fairly good driver, and his T-bird was no slouch itself, he was able to shake two of the pursuers. However the four that remained were all driving true 'muscle' cars, and they simply outclassed the T-bird.

"They're gaining." The vampire warned as she looked back at the cars chasing them.

"I know." The ex-Marine replied, through grit teeth, as he looked in his rear view mirror.

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Well, do something... I'm not going back. I won't let them take me back... I'd die first."

The ex-marine gunned his T-bird and then slammed on the brakes and turned the wheel... hard, sliding the car into an incredibly tight turn and heading down a different road. But their pursuers slowed down, took the turn at a more reasonable speed and continued on. The stunt had only bought the pair an extra minute or two.

"They're catching up again." The vampire called out.

The man sighed and decided to try a 'Hail Mary'. "Grab my shotgun out of the back..." He paused for a second. "Can you handle the recoil of a 12-gage shotgun blast?"

"I... I don't see why not. I'm a lot stronger than I look."

"It's more about weight than strength." The man commented.

"I can handle it." The vampire insisted.

And the man sighed again. "Fine. Grab my shotgun out of the back. At the next intersection, I'm going to slow down and spin the car around again. That should bring them within range. Aim at the front of their cars and fire. Hopefully, the dragon's breath rounds will eat right through their engines, okay?"

The vampire nodded, unbuckled, retrieved the shotgun from the back seat and turned around. She braced her back against the car's dashboard and planted her feet firmly into the leather seat. "Alright, ready."

"Good, cause we're almost... there!" The man yelled as he spun the car again.

And the vampire's enhanced reflexes kicked in. Time around her slowed to a crawl, and she stuck the barrel of the shotgun out the open window. "One," she counted as she pulled the trigger, shooting a blast of fire out of the end of the gun's barrel and into the engine of the first car. She pumped the shotgun, discharging the spent round and locking the next one into place "Two," she continued as the front of the second car erupted into flames. "Three... Four," She finished just as the T-bird started to take off again, and time began to speed back up.

"Nice shooting." The man commented.

And the vampire smiled, more out of relief for having finally escaped than because of the compliment her... 'accomplice' paid her. But she thanked him for it anyway. Then she chucked the shotgun back into the back of the car and rubbed her shoulder. The man wasn't kidding about the recoil; but fortunately, the vampire's regeneration quickly soothed the pain.

After a moment passed, and both of them had calmed down, the vampire turned back to the man. "So... you got a name?" She asked, sounding somewhat awkward.

"Yeah..." The man replied a little hesitantly. He wasn't use to trying to be social with a vampire. "Name's Keith." He answered as he extended a hand.

The vampire shook it. "Thanks... for getting me out of there." She said and then, after a moment continued in an obviously puzzled tone. "But... Ah, why'd you do it?"

The ex-Marine, Keith, was silent for the better part of a minute; but he eventually replied, "You... you remind me of... someone. So, how about you?" He quickly changed the subject. "You got a name?"

The vampire shrugged. "Probably. But I can't remember anything from before a few days ago." There was a brief moment of silence. "The girl, the person I remind you of, what was her name?" The vampire asked.

Another moment of silence passed, but Keith finally answered, "Alison."

"Alison," the vampire tested the name out. "Alison," she repeated once more. "Yes, that sounds like it'll do. Until I get my memory back, you can call me Alison... if you want."

Keith had mixed feelings about calling a vampire by his daughter's name. However, he felt like he needed something to call her. 'Vampire' would've just been awkward. And objecting to the name would've called for an explanation that he didn't feel comfortable giving. So he just nodded in acceptance of the vampire's... 'Alison's' suggestion.

* * *

"You've lost it!" The statues voice boomed in the chamber, and the bald headed mage took a step back.

"It escaped. Seems it had help this time, some traitorous American pig."

"How close were you to finishing the research?" The statue asked in a far calmer voice, one that caused a cold shiver to run down the mage's back.

"I was already finished with the research, just double checking a few experiments."

"Then you know enough to forge the trinket?"

"Yes..." The mage replied slowly. "But, without the vampire, what good is it?"

"If we've lost this one, we shall simply get a replacement."

"That... that won't work. The research was all targeted specifically with this vampire in mind. The item won't work with another... at least it won't work the right way."

"Fortunately, that will not be a problem. There is another piece to the vampire we lost, one that we already know where to find."

The mage's face flashed in recognition. "You mean the other Alucard, the piece that the Phantom failed to bring us last time."

"Yessss," The statue hissed. "Will your trinket work for that one?"

"Yes, yes, I think it will. Should I see about contacting the Phantom again, or do you have another agent in mind?"

"No. Not this time. We must learn from past mistakes. This time you're not going to send in a lone agent. You're going to attack the Hellsing compound in force."

The mage's eyes went wide. "But... but a full scale attack? We could lose hundreds of men!" He objected.

"Not nearly as many as will be lost if we don't deal with this problem quickly. We have no more time for mistakes! The dead... the dead are already starting to grow restless. Their king's return is drawing close."

The mage gulped. "Y-yes, Meridia. I'll... I'll begin the preparations for a full scale assault."

* * *

The sun was just starting to set, not that Michael could see it from his windowless room in the Hellsing basement. For the last few hours, he'd been poring over every scrap of data he'd ever collected on the Order, hoping it would all come together and point him to their branch of local operations... assuming, of course, that they even had one.

Finally, he sat back, closed his eyes and rubbed them; and, just then, a knocking sound came from his door. Michael sighed and got up. He reflexively closed the lid of his laptop, in order to keep anyone else's stray glances or prying eyes from gleaning any information from it, and walked over to the door.

When Michael opened it, he found Walter standing there, a serving tray in his hand. "What's this?" The sniper asked.

"Clam chowder," the butler replied. "I take it it's still one of your favorites?"

Michael smiled. "Yes, Walter. Thank you." He took the tray.

"May I come in?" Michael stepped aside, and Walter entered behind him. The butler looked around the room, and the first things he noticed were the Bible pages that had been tacked up all over the walls. "Creating a 'Holy barrier'? Don't tell me you're still afraid of Miss Victoria?"

"I just don't like the idea of... 'people' being able to sneak into my room uninvited," the sniper replied. "Besides, she's not the only vampire in this house... and her master has a nasty habit of just barging in wherever and whenever he wants."

"True." Walter consented. "But where did you learn how to do this? It's not a technique we teach."

"As I told Sir Integra, 'I've learned some things on the outside.'"

"Indeed." The butler commented as he slowly turned around, finally ending up facing back at Michael. "Speaking of Sir Integra," he continued, "she would like an update. Have you made any progress?"

"Some." Michael replied. "It's slow work, and there's a lot of data to sift through." Walter's face told Michael that the butler was hoping for better news. "I'm sorry, Walter. But I'm going as fast as I can while double checking my work... and I'm not going to risk trying to speed things up and giving Sir Integra faulty intel."

"Of course not," Walter replied. "You're too smart to do that... But I do hope you also remember how Sir Integra gets when she thinks something is taking too long."

Michael sighed, but then his lip curled into a slight, somewhat nostalgic, grin. "Yes, yes I do. Alright, I'll see if I can't speed things up a little."

"I believe that would be for the best," Walter said before making a slight bow and leaving the room.

Michael brought the bowl of clam chowder over to his desk and opened the lid of his laptop. If Integra was sending Walter to check up on him, he'd better not break for dinner. He'd have to eat with one hand and work with the other. "Just like old times." The sniper commented to himself.

* * *

When the sun had dropped completely below the horizon, Seras began to feel her strength returning. She felt re-energized and opened up her eyes. She still saw nothing, of course. The inside of her coffin was pitch black.

Then the fledgling snuggled a little more firmly into her mattress. Sure, she **could** get up now. But she didn't **have** to. Her last 'shift' had dragged on many extra hours, and now that there were no pressing emergencies, surely she could just relax for a little while. The mattress was just so soft; and if anyone really needed her for anything, it wasn't like they didn't know where to find her.

So Seras decided to rest a bit longer. She let out a contented sigh and rolled over, trying to find the most comfortable position to fall back asleep in. And that was when she noticed the two small pinpricks of red glowing at her.

"Good evening, Police Girl." Alucard's voice greeted in a soft, husky tone. "Did you sleep well?"

Seras's reaction was immediate. She screamed in shock, attempted to jump up, hit her head on the coffin lid (producing a low, thumping sound) and then slumped back down to the soft mattress. "Master... Wh-what are you doing in my bed?!" The fledgling nearly shouted, not having quite gotten a hold of her shock yet, as she rubbed the part of her head that had smacked against her coffin lid.

"Why, you invited me, of course." Alucard cooed in a smug voice.

Seras's eyebrows knit together. "I-I did no such thing." She replied while subconsciously attempting to back away from her master, only to have her back collide with another, **relatively** soft body.

A soft, canine wine emitted from the other body and then there were six more small pinpricks of red light, which combined with the other two to cast a **very** faint illumination in Seras's coffin-like bed.

"You let the hound sleep here." Alucard countered.

"That's... that's different, Master." Seras replied. "He's... He's a dog." As if in response to that statement, Baskerville's long tongue slurped out and licked the back of Seras's neck.

And just then Fluffy leapt from somewhere near the foot of the bed and landed on Seras's stomach. The fledgling suddenly felt rather crowded. It was a large bed, but still... With Seras, Baskerville, Alucard and Fluffy all sharing it, there wasn't much room for the fledgling to maneuver.

Her master just continued in his normal, ever confident and smug tone. "He's a part of me. Allow him to spend the night and it's the same as inviting me."

Seras didn't bother trying to argue any further. There was no point trying to inject logical reasoning into such an insane situation, and she'd not yet been with the Hellsing organization long enough to know how to argue insanely. "Oh." She responded simply, then reached around Baskerville and hit the switch that would raise the lid off her bed.

As soon as the lid was halfway up, Seras nearly bolted out of her bed. "Well, I've got to be getting up now... Lot's of stuff to do, you know?" She smiled nervously.

"Really, such as?"

"Ah... I've... Um-" Seras stammered while she tried to think of something she had to do.

"I think you're lying." Alucard interrupted his fledgling's stammering. "And only naughty fledglings lie to their masters." He cooed as he got out of her bed and began to slowly walk over to her."Are you a naughty fledgling?" The master vampire continued in a velvety tone as he backed his fledgling up against her chamber wall.

"I-I-I-I-" Was all Seras could manage as her master leaned his face in further, his cool breath beginning to fall upon her neck.

"Do you need to be... disciplined?" He asked, and Seras's mind flashed with memories of the little fantasy he'd planted in her head the day after he'd first been separated.

Seras gulped. "M-M-Master, please?"

Alucard was now rubbing his hands up and down the sides of his fledgling's arms. He could feel her starting to tremble. He could feel little goosebumps rising in her skin. "Please... what?" His words dripped like honey as he leaned in further, ever further, his lips finally grazing the soft flesh of her neck.

But before Seras had a chance to answer, there was a knock at her chamber door. Once again the fledgling smiled nervously. _Saved by the bell_, she thought as she twisted out of her master's grasp, ran over to the door and opened it up.

Walter was standing on the other side. "Miss Victoria, Sir Integra sent me to fetch you and Alucard. Michael believes that he's figured out the location of the Order's base of operations in England."

"Oh?" Alucard interrupted as he walked over and pulled the door open further.

At first Walter looked slightly taken back. Alucard's chamber was going to be his next stop, and the butler had not expected to find the master vampire in his servants bed chamber. But then the butler's lips pulled into just the slightest trace of a coy smile.

"Sorry, Police Girl, but I'm afraid your discipline will have to wait." Alucard continued, then turned back to Walter. "Please inform my master that we'll be right up."

"Of course." Walter replied, made a little bow and then left.

Alucard dissolved a second later; and Seras breathed a little sigh of relief. Then she almost jumped as her master's disembodied voice ordered, "Police Girl, you had better get changed quickly and meet me in the Master's office. She doesn't like to be kept waiting."

"Y-yes, Master." The fledgling replied as she went over and retrieved a uniform from her dresser. She began to unbutton the top of her pajamas and really hoped that her master was truly gone this time. Just in case, Seras turned away from the direction the voice had come from... only to find Baskerville eying her a little bit more intensely than she would've liked. "Bloody perverts!" The fledgling exclaimed as she snatched up her uniform and marched into the bathroom to change.

Baskerville's head cocked to the side and followed her as she passed by him. The Hell-Hound had a curious expression on his face, and Seras couldn't tell if it was genuine or just a ruse. But she did know one thing. She certainly wasn't going to let **that** dog sleep in her bed again.

(Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please review and let me know what you thought of it. Thanks.

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid.)

* * *

To Deva Fiend: Thanks for the review. I'm glad you've been enjoying this so far and think that it's got plenty of action, gore, sensuality and humor. :) I usually try to update my solo-fics (ones that aren't being co-written with someone else) about once a week. Unfortunately, the last couple of chapters in this one have been a little too long for that; and I'm down to about once every ten days. Sorry. :( But I hope you don't mind the little extra wait and stick around for the rest. :)

PS. Yes, this one is an AxS fic.

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid.


	10. Chapter 10: Assault on Hellsing Manor

**Assault on Hellsing Manor**

**AN: **Once again, sorry about the wait. But this is know the longest chapter in this fic, and it took awhile to write. I hope you all enjoy. :)

Keith looked over at the creature 'riding shotgun'. She was sleeping soundly, her body half curled up into a little ball. The ex-Marine smiled and thought how much she resembled any other kid who'd fallen asleep on a long car trip. He then shook his head and reminded himself of what this particular 'kid' had done not more than seven hours earlier. Alison might look like a normal, little girl. However, she was anything but.

The vampire rolled around a little and started to come to. She stretched out her arms and legs and then roughly jerked her head from side to side, producing a sharp crackling sound. "Ahhh," the creature sighed in relief. Then she turned to Keith. "How long have I been out?"

"Since we passed over the Bosphorus Bridge," the ex-marine replied and briefly wondered if his companion's 'sleep' had something to do with the old myth about vampires and crossing over running water. "A little over six hours," Keith continued, adding an actual time reference to his answer.

"Huh," Alison commented, "It didn't feel like six hours... more like twenty minutes."

"You're probably still tired from... whatever it was the Order put you through."

"Yeah," the vampire consented. "I suppose so, tired... and hungry." Keith felt his pulse quicken, but Alison laughed and continued, "Oh don't get nervous. I'm not going to eat you... But there must be a town around here somewhere." She paused for a moment. "Where is 'here', anyway?"

Keith shrugged. "I'm not quite sure... somewhere in Asia. I was more concerned about getting off and staying off the main roads than where these back ones actually lead."

The answer made sense to Alison. If this 'Order' came after her, and she had little doubt they would, they'd have a harder time tracking the two of them down on the old, back roads. Still... "Asia's a big place," the vampire mused aloud. "But a big place with a really high population. I'm sure we'll run by a town or settlement before too long."

"And then what?" Keith asked.

"And then I'll have a bite to drink," Alison replied and giggled at her own little joke. Then her eyebrows knit together as something about the line seemed familiar. It was almost as if she remembered saying it before; but like a large, stubborn fish on a hook, the memory refused to be reeled in.

"I didn't set you free so you could start terrorizing the country side," Keith said, breaking the monster's train of thought.

"Well then, I'd say you didn't think things through. I'm going to need blood, you know?" Alison replied and then huffed.

"Yeah... I know," Keith responded and let out a little sigh. "Don't worry. We'll think of something," he continued doing his best to sound reassuring.

* * *

"Big door," Alucard sardonically observed as he and Seras neared the underground bunker that Michael believed to be the Order's base of English operations.

Seras nodded in agreement. "So, how do you want to do this? Ghost through the top and drop into the place?"

"Belmont said that the base would likely be enchanted with a magic barrier to prevent such things," Alucard replied.

"So..." Seras prompted.

"So I'm thinking you should..." Alucard paused and cast a look over to the large weapon slung over his fledgling's shoulder. "Knock," the master vampire continued with a slight grin.

Seras just stared at him for a half-second, but then the edge of her lip curled upwards. "Yes, Master," the fledgling replied as she unslung her Harkonnen and took aim.

She fired a shell from her hand held, tank turret, blowing the double, reinforced steel doors right off their hinges; and while she stopped to reload her weapon, her master made short work of the three guards who had quickly sprung out of the entrance to the underground bunker.

***Bang*** Alucard's Jackal roared as the first round of the night whipped down its barrel and impacted one of the guards, dead center in his forehead. ***Bang*** It sounded again as another round flew free, this one piercing through the left side of the second guard's chest.

Had the man been a vampire or a ghoul he would've instantly turned to dust. However, being human, he simply fell backward, from the force of the impact. Blood squirted up into the air, from the large hole in the man's chest, and soaked into the material of his uniform.

Alucard licked his lips and decided to take a little bit more time with the third guard. First he fired a round into the man's right knee, blowing it apart and sending his right leg flying. The man screamed and fell, but managed to pull his own pistol from its holster. He took aim at the closest intruder, which just happened to be Seras. However, before the guard could fire his weapon, another bullet from Alucard's Jackal blew both the gun and the man's hand away.

The man shouted again and began to crawl to the nearest of his dead comrades, likely hoping to retrieve the other man's weapon; and Alucard just watched for a moment. He watched... and grinned, like a sadistic cat playing with a mouse.

"M-Master?" Seras called as she finished reloading her weapon.

And Alucard knew that his 'fun' was unnerving his fledgling. The No-Life King let out a little sigh, but then fired the fifth, and last round, in his clip, putting the third guard out of his misery. "Happy, Police Girl?"

Seras flashed him a halfhearted grin. At least her master cared enough to spare her the sight of **some** of his sadistic indulgences.

The No-Life King chuckled lightly. A little 'kitten' who was troubled by the sight of him 'playing' with his 'food'; Alucard's fledgling could be so cute at times. Then the master vampire held out his hand; and after another short pause, Seras reached into her back pack. She pulled out another clip of Jackal ammo and handed it to her master, a slight shiver running through her as their hands touched.

Alucard must've sensed the shiver... or perhaps he just read something in Seras's facial expression that betrayed how she felt. Either way, he wore an amused grin as he ejected his spent clip, locked the fresh one into place and cocked his weapon. "Come on, Police Girl. The night is young, and there is much killing to be done... let's go have some fun," Alucard called as he began to head towards the bunker's entrance.

Seras raised an eyebrow and wondered if the slight rhyme had been unintentional. _It must've been_, she concluded as she took off after her master.

Upon crossing the entrance threshold, Alucard felt his connection to his own master sever. Concerned by this, the vampire abruptly stopped and stared at his hand. _No, not severed... merely blocked,_ he thought as he took note of the familiar red glow.

"Master? Are... are you okay?" Seras asked, noticing that Alucard had stopped and seemed to be intently staring at his hand for some reason.

"Fine, Police Girl," the No-Life King quickly replied and let his hand drop to his side. "But it seems Belmont was right about the magic barrier. Let's clear this place out quickly. My master can send in another team to investigate and collect the data, once it's safe."

Seras quickly nodded in agreement, pleased by the fact that her master wanted to move quickly. It meant that she was unlikely to be subjected to anymore... disturbing images of him 'playing' with the human guards.

* * *

It was the beginning of a beautiful evening. The sky was unusually clear, allowing a mostly unobstructed view of the stars and the crescent shaped moon. The ground was still a little damp from the rain that had fallen earlier, but there was a crisp, fresh smell in the air. The crickets and frogs were out, chirping and croaking happily, as if they didn't have a care in the world. And although the night was a little warm, there was a pleasant, refreshing breeze that compensated for that.

Integra, for once, even had her office windows open. And while she tackled her last stack of paperwork for the night, she was calmer than usual, soothed by the soft chorus of nocturnal creatures and the breeze that flew around her, causing a few stray strands of her long, platinum-blonde hair to 'dance'.

Yes, it was shaping up to be a beautiful night, and Integra let out a happy little sigh... It was then that the chirps and croaks were interrupted by the crackling sounds of gunfire and deep booms of explosions, and all hell began to break loose.

* * *

The Order troops stormed the front gate, killed the Hellsing guards and quickly entered the mansion, where they slaughtered two more before the rest were able to react and take cover. Then the rush turned into a slow battle for territory. The other three Hellsing guards didn't last very long; but they did buy a few extra seconds, and that... that was enough, for the Order's enemies now knew they were under attack.

The Hellsing soldiers quickly mobilized. They turned over tables, chairs, anything they saw that could be used to fortify their positions, and those who'd been asleep or off duty were fast to seize their weapons and don their vests.

* * *

Inside Integra's office, the knight tried to summon her 'pets' back to her side. She called, yelled and screamed for Alucard... and then for Seras. But neither answered; and it soon became apparent, to Integra, that her and her men were on their own.

She growled as she pushed her chair back. She opened one of the draws of her desk and removed a Beretta 93R pistol. Then the knight walked over to an old display case, opened it up and selected her favorite, silver-lined rapier. Integra kept the sword sheathed and tied it about her waist. It was a good weapon and one she was an expert with, but it was only useful at close range. For now, the Beretta would be more effective. Having armed herself as well as was possible under the circumstances, the Hellsing leader firmly gripped her pistol and ran off to join her men.

* * *

The Huntsman was quick to break away from the Order's full time troops. He always had worked better on his own; and he figured that trying to secure the entire mansion, which was designed as more of a cleverly camouflaged fortress than a home to cater to the wealthy's luxurious life style, was a waste of both time and resources. They'd come for the vampire, Alucard. Capturing him was their objective and what would fetch the Huntsman his bounty. And he knew that the vampire, like all creatures of the night would have made his home in the darkest, most secluded area of the mansion. So while the rank and file Order troops worked to secure the first floor, with hopes of reaching the second one next, the Huntsman descended the staircase that led to the mansion's basement.

It was there that the hunter saw someone, he had certainly not expected to find in the mansion, coming out of one of the basement rooms. "Michael?" the Huntsman asked. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, bollocks," the sniper commented and, quickly raising his rifle to his hip, fired at the Huntsman.

Unfortunately for Michael a sniper-rifle was designed to be fired at long range, while peering through the scope. It made a lousy point blank weapon; and the Huntsman, diving to the side, avoided the round.

Before Michael could pull back, push forward and lock the bolt of his L115A1 back into place, the Huntsman had already released his bow and pulled a snare from his belt. He threw it at the sniper, the balls whipping around Michael's ankles and the wire wrapping around him. Michael fell over, the force of the impact knocking his rifle out of his hands, and the Huntsman slowly approached his trapped prey.

"Well," the Huntsman began in a confident, slightly smug voice. "I guess this badge..." he continued while pointing at the Hellsing crest on Michael's uniform. "Wasn't all part of some infiltration ploy, huh?" The hunter unsheathed a green bladed dagger and squatted down next to his struggling prey. "It's a bit of a shame, really. Beating you to the choicest contracts added a little extra spice to the hunt."

"You know, you could let me go." Michael responded sardonically.

The Huntsman just shook his head reprovingly. "Now, now... You may not be the biggest 'game' around, but I'm sure the Order will still pay handsomely for your traitorous head." So saying, the hunter began to thrust the green blade at his prey's throat.

Fortunately, Baskerville, having been awakened by the sound of Michael's sniper firing, chose that moment to enter the hallway. The hell-hound's hair stood on end and he growled low at the intruder, snapping the man's attention away from Michael.

The Huntsman looked up and noticed the six glowing, red eyes glaring angrily at him. "A-A demon dog?" the man asked aloud, and his face twisted into an expectant grin. A savage beast that possessed the forbidden powers of a creature of darkness? Now that would be the ultimate 'prey'. "Come to me beast... Come to me," the man challenged as he curled his free hand in a come hither motion; and releasing a loud snarl, Baskerville leapt at the hunter.

The force of the impact knocked both parties away from Michael, and gave the sniper amble opportunity to free himself. He ran over and retrieved his rifle, dropped to one knee, sighted in on the struggling pair and waited for a clear shot.

A short time later, the two stopped rolling for a moment; and the Huntsman, pinned to the ground had all he could do to hold back Baskerville's head... and the powerful jaws attached to it. That was the moment Michael had been waiting for. He held his breath and began to gently squeeze the trigger.

But then Baskerville whipped his head around and growled at the sniper; and Michael, realizing that growl had been a warning not to interfere with the hell-hound's 'fun', released his grip on the trigger. The sniper stood up and commented, "Fine, you want him? You've got him... I'll go see to the Master."

Baskerville snorted out his approval as Michael made for the nearest ventilation duct. He pulled the grate free, and entered the duct. While crawling through the small, metal tunnel and dragging his large rifle by its strap, the sniper absently wondered why it was that Integra had never thought to replace the antiquated ventilation system with smaller ducts and remove the rather obvious hole in her mansion's security.

* * *

Baskerville tore at the Huntsman. The hell-hound tried to sink its fangs into the man's neck. But the hunter was just barely able to hold the creature's head at bay. So, instead, Baskerville attacked the man's midsection. The creature repeatedly latched unto the man's torso with its powerful jaws. However, the hell-hound was unable to pierce the thick, magic resistant animal hide.

After another moment of struggling, the Huntsman managed to roll the beast off of him. The man quickly grabbed the green bladed dagger, that had fallen to his side during the struggle; and as the hell-hound came at him again, the hunter drove the blade into the creature's side.

Baskerville felt like he'd just been struck by lightning. The dagger was enchanted; and upon coming into contact with the hell-hound's body, it released a bolt of electricity. The creature snarled and barked angrily; but the Huntsman just twisted the dagger, sending out a new wave of energy. The hell-hound snarled again, and then let out a little wine as another enchantment became obvious.

The Dagger of the Dynamo, as the dagger was actually called, had been given to the Huntsman so that he'd have a way to capture Alucard and bring the vampire to the Order's head mage. Therefore, in addition to the electrical damage, the weapon had a soul trapping enchantment on it as well; and Baskerville began to feel his strength, his will to fight, indeed his very life force itself slipping away.

"Mangy mutt," the Huntsman growled as he stood up and kicked the beast. Baskerville whined again, and the hunter knew that he had his prey right where he wanted it. The man pulled a large, blue gem from his pocket and casually tossed it onto the floor. Then he bent down, pulled the dagger from Baskerville's side and moved it over the creature's chest. The hunter grinned in victory; but before he could plunge the short blade into the beast's heart, he heard a sharp hissing sound coming from his left.

The Huntsman turned, and Fluffy immediately pounced on his face, digging in her claws and teeth. The hunter screamed in pain and reeled back for a moment. All thoughts of the hell-hound were driven from the man's mind as he turned his full attention to the small, orange tabby mauling his face. He stabbed the small animal; and as its grip loosened, he pulled it off and threw it against the stone wall, the impact shattering Fluffy's small spine.

But the Huntsman was given no reprieve, as a partially recovered Baskerville jumped up and sunk his teeth into the hunter's exposed neck. The beast tore out the man's throat; and with a slight gurgling sound, the Huntsman fell to the stone floor.

In spite of the wounds the creature still carried Baskerville's lips curled. He then lowered his head, intent on devouring his 'victor's spoils'. But a weak, pitiful sounding 'meow' diverted the beast's attention from his kill. The small kitten, that Baskerville had grown so close to, was dying. It had given its life to save him.

The hell-hound went over to the small tabby and nudged the little creature with its snout. The action, not surprisingly, didn't seem to help. Baskerville let out a sad sounding whine; and then, driven more by instinct than reasoning, the hell-hound moved its head down and gently bit into the kitten's neck.

Fluffy let out a very strange sounding purr, and Baskerville released its neck. He went over to the Huntsman's body, latched onto the man's left arm and dragged the fresh carcass over to the little kitten. The hell-hound tore the body open, spilling blood all over the tabby and the floor; and Fluffy, weakly, began to lick at the red liquid.

Baskerville laid down beside the small kitten and began to chow down on the hunter's flesh, leaving the crimson 'juices' for its new fledgling.

* * *

The significantly numerically superior Order troops had succeeded in pushing back the Hellsing soldiers. Integra and her men had been driven to the third floor and were currently making their stand outside the Round Table conference room. It was the most heavily fortified room in the entire mansion; and should she be left with no other alternative, the knight could order a final retreat, seal herself and whatever was left of her men up and pray that her pets would return before the enemy breached the room... though she didn't hold out much hope for that.

The Order troops were unlike anything her and her men had ever faced before. Nearly everyone of them seemed to possess some arcane power, ability or weapon; and no two seemed quite the same. Still, her men were doing incredibly well... given the circumstances.

The Order troops might have had better weapons, equipment and talents, but Integra's men were better trained. They fought like hardened soldiers, and they had the benefit of a remarkably capable leader. Sir Integral Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing had been taught the art of war since her infancy; and later, in her teenage years, she'd been instructed by a general with over five hundred years of experience.

The Order troops were more disorganized. They didn't cover each other as well; and there were 'holes' in their lines. They were, at best, militia men. And Integra's soldiers were killing at least two to one. Unfortunately they were facing an enemy force nearly four times their size. The Hellsing soldiers were overwhelmed, pinned down and simply couldn't hold out forever.

Such was the situation Michael found when he dropped down, out of the ventilation duct in the conference room, and quickly moved to the Hellsing soldiers. Integra seemed a little surprised by his sudden appearance. "Where'd you come from?" the knight asked as the sniper squatted down next to her and joined the Hellsing line.

"You renewed my contract, remember?" Michael joked in reply as he sighted in on his first Order trooper. The sniper squeezed the trigger of his rifle, and the magnum bullet ripped through the first trooper's head and pierced the right shoulder of one of the men behind him.

"Yeah, I remember," Integra replied as Michael used the rifle's bolt to lock the next round into place. An extraordinarily large Order trooper broke away from the rest and released a feral roar as he charged at the Hellsing line. "But I half figured you'd been killed or run away by now," the knight continued as she jammed her rapier through the neck of the monstrous man.

Michael didn't reply this time. He was too busy trying to drown out the din of battle as he sighted in on his next target. Another shot, another kill... if his life wasn't on the line, the sniper would've been enjoying himself.

Integra seemed to be enjoying herself regardless of the danger. She chuckled lightly as she fired into the opposing line, her bullet tearing open a trooper's femoral vein, and then the knight barked at one of her soldiers, who'd tried to reload his automatic rifle too quickly and jammed the thing. Everywhere there was the roar of gunfire, the screams of the injured, cries of the dying; and the stench of blood was thick in the air.

Michael continued to help hold the line, against the order troops, until he was down to his last five-round-magazine. "Bully," the sniper grumbled sarcastically as he loaded his last mag into place. Then he shook his head and stood up. The man latched onto Integra's upper arm; and before the knight fully processed what was happening to her, Michael had dragged her into the conference room.

"It's hopeless," he said. "You've gotta surrender."

At first Integra's eyes went wide, and she looked surprised by the statement. Then they narrowed and her expression shifted into one of outrage. "We are members of the Hellsing organization, her Majesty's most secret, best trained and equipped fighting force. We **do not** surrender!"

"Yeah, and we shall fight them on the landing grounds, in the fields and in the streets, in the hills. We shall never surrender. Spare me the Winston Churchill, will you? Sometimes surrender is the only option for survival," Michael replied in a loud, insubordinate tone that, had Alucard been around to hear it, would've likely gotten the sniper eaten.

Flames were practically in Integra's eyes. "How dare you?" she growled low and then seemed to regard the man as nothing more than an annoyance. "Get out of my way," the knight continued as she unceremoniously pushed Michael aside and began heading back towards the hallway.

However, the sniper placed himself between her and the doorway. "Look, will you just, please, listen to reason for once," he pleaded.

But Integra merely drew her rapier; and almost faster than Michael could see, she had it pressed against his throat. "You want to run? Run. But get out of my way before I kill you myself," Integra replied.

And Michael knew that the knight wasn't just making an idle threat. He quickly stepped aside and bowed his head in submission. Then as Integra passed by him again, the sniper quietly apologized. "Sorry, Sir."

The last thing Integra felt before her world was lost to the black nothingness of unconsciousness, was the cold, hard butt of a rifle being jammed against the back of her neck.

(Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please review and let me know what you thought of it. Thanks.

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid.)


	11. Chapter 11: The Missing Master

**The Missing Master**

**AN: **Well, this chapter isn't as long as the last one, but I hope you all still enjoy it. Sorry that it's a little late. I just haven't really felt much like writing the last couple of weeks.

Once the hell-hound and the vampire kitty finished their 'meal', the two creatures felt their strength beginning to return. Baskerville rushed up the stairs, Fluffy following closely behind him. But alas, the beast soon discovered that he was too late to take part in anymore of the 'fun'.

The manor's invaders were gone, leaving only dead bodies and destruction behind as evidence of their attack. For a moment, the demon dog looked surprised, then his face shifted into more of a disappointed expression. Other than his kitten fledgling, there seemed to be no one left to play with.

But then Baskerville's head whipped around and his ears raised slightly. The monstrous canine had caught a small sound coming from one of the piles of rubble. The doggy cautiously approached the pile; and as he neared it, his nose picked up a familiar, slightly musky scent cutting through the overpowering stench of blood and death.

With a bark of recognition, Baskerville's front paws morphed into claws and he began to pull away the rubble. Fluffy did her best to help; though since the cat had not yet learned how to shape-shift, she wasn't able to move anything bigger than a golf ball.

Still, it didn't take long before a head emerged from the pile of rubble, Walter's head. The old Butler was terribly hurt... but still very much alive. He groaned, and Baskerville, clamping his powerful jaws down on the butler's collar, pulled him from the wreckage.

Walter moaned loudly as pain shot through his body, at being moved so suddenly. But once the butler was freed, Baskerville released his grasp. Walter just laid there for a moment, then he turned his head to look at a dead body that was clothed in a rather ostentatious looking robe. "I may be getting old, but I still outlasted you," the man grumbled with a certain sense of pride and then wished he hadn't, for it sent another spike of pain shooting through him.

And so Walter just laid there quietly for a moment. Then he felt something soft, bumpy and wet moving along the tips of his fingers. The butler turned his and saw that Fluffy was, apparently, trying to console him by licking his hand. Despite his condition, Walter smiled. Then his brow furrowed as he wondered why he wasn't sneezing. A closer look at the kitten's face revealed the reason. She had fangs now; and an undead animal would carry none of the mites that he was allergic to.

Walter couldn't help but chuckle lightly as he turned to Baskerville, "You always were a sucker for cute 'kittens'."

Baskerville wagged his tail and nodded at the Englishman.

And then Walter, wounded and tired, finally realized something. "Sir Integra!"

The last time he'd seen her she'd been retreating up the staircase with the rest of the Hellsing soldiers. He'd done his best to hold off their enemies long enough for Integra and her men to regroup, but he wasn't as young as he used to be. Eventually, he'd been overpowered, and the invaders had gotten by. What had happened to Sir Integra then?

"Baskerville," Walter spoke loudly, managing a tone of urgency, though it pained him to do so. "Go up the stairs, up to the higher levels; and find Sir Integra. Find your master, and see if she's alright."

The hell-hound nodded in understanding, and his body coiled. Then he took off with a bound that propelled him more than halfway up the tall staircase.

Baskerville searched the second level thoroughly, and then he did the same to the third. But alas, the monster's master was nowhere to be found. However, in the hallway that led to the Round Table conference room, the hell-hound did find another Hellsing survivor. The man had a gash down the side of his face. His right leg had been broken, and he'd done his best to cobble together a makeshift splint using torn clothing and a flat piece of debris.

The demon dog approached the soldier. It wanted to ask him about its master. But the creature did not have the words. It hoped the man would offer up the information on his own. However, when it became apparent that Baskerville wasn't going to attack, the soldier just sighed, pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, brought one of the coffin nails to his lips and lit up.

Baskerville cocked his head to the side and quickly dashed away. He ran back down the stairs (ignoring the strange look he got from Walter) and entered Integra's office. There he grabbed her cigar box in his teeth, and then he dashed back to the soldier (once again ignoring the butler's confused gaze). The beast popped the box down by the soldier's side, and the man looked at it for a moment.

He opened it up, took out one of the cigars, lit it with the end of his cigarette and then ground the cheaper nicotine stick into the back of a nearby corpse, extinguishing the lit cigarette. The man reached over and petted Baskerville. "Thanks, Fido."

The hell-hound was not amused. It growled and struck the box with its front left leg. The man looked confused. The doggy struck the box again and then barked, but the man still didn't seem to understand. The creature latched onto the man's sleeve and began to pull him along, despite the latter's vehement protests.

* * *

A terrible sight greeted Alucard and Seras when they returned to the mansion. The place was in ruins, and an almost silent "No," escaped Seras's lips as she took in the damage. Looking shocked and slightly out of it, the fledgling began to wander through the demolished manor.

Alucard didn't seem to care one bit about the state of the mansion or the dead bodies littering the floor. Only one thought occupied the No-Life King's mind. Where was his master? The vampire reached out telepathically, trying to pick something up over their connection. But there was nothing.

For a brief moment, Alucard feared the worst, but another look at his glove confirmed that the 'binding seal' was still in effect. Integra was the last member of the Hellsing bloodline; and if the seal was still active, it meant she was still alive... _just to far away to be sensed._ But how was that possible? The attack upon the mansion would've taken time, and he and his fledgling weren't gone **that** long. How could Integra already be so far away that he couldn't even sense her?

Alucard's train of thought was soon derailed as he heard Seras yell for him. Wondering if perhaps the invaders weren't as long gone as he'd thought and were now threatening the only other woman he actually cared for, Alucard quickly pulled out his guns and rushed to where Seras's shout had come from.

However, he soon discovered that Seras didn't call for him out of fear... at least not fear for herself. She was kneeling down next to Walter, cradling his head in her lap and staring at the butler's face as if pleading with him not to leave them.

"H-he needs a doctor. We have to get him help!" Seras exclaimed as she looked up at her master.

The vampire gazed down at the old butler, scanning the Englishman with his 'third eye'. "Concussion, some very minor internal hemorrhaging, a cracked rib cage and a dozen broken bones. I'm sure he's not very comfortable right now... but he'll live," Alucard informed Seras, sounding a little too detached for her liking.

The No-Life King turned back to the butler and continued, "What happened to my master?"

"I-" Walter began then grimaced in pain. He stopped and took a deep breath before replying in a quieter, less painful voice. "I don't know. Baskerville's searching for her."

"Baskerville?" Alucard asked; and as if in answer to the question, a protesting voice was heard nearing the third floor landing

"Ow! S-stop. Let me go. Can't you see I've got a broken leg, ya mangy mutt?!"

Baskerville came into view, still dragging the surviving soldier. The pair stopped for a moment at the top of the staircase and the soldier looked down it. His face morphed into an expression of total dread, and he stared back at the hell-hound. "Oh, you've gotta be kidding... right?"

Baskerville shook his head and then, latching onto the soldier's clothing again, began to drag him down the steps, much to the survivor's horror.

Were the circumstances different, Alucard would've fond the sight terribly amusing. However, the circumstances being what they were, he ordered Baskerville to release the survivor. The beast scowled at the vampire, but complied with the order anyway.

Alucard raised his hand, and an invisible force lifted the surviving soldier into the air. The vampire curled a finger, and the Hellsing soldier was pulled to him. "Now," Alucard began in a very serious sounding voice, a voice that somehow managed to induce even more fear than his usual psychotically playful one. "What do you know about my Master's disappearance?"

The soldier gulped, took a deep breath and then blurted out his answer so quickly that the sentences ran together. "We retreated to the third floor, made our last stand by the Round Table conference room- But there were too many- They just kept coming!- We were running low on ammo, and most all of us were wounded... somewhere- Then that new guy, Michael I think- He pulled Sir Integra into the conference room- I couldn't hear what happened between the two of them- Gun fire, you know?- But when he came back out, he was carrying the boss in his arms- He handed her over to the invaders-"

"And you just let him?!" Alucard interrupted with a roar, and his eyes narrowed to pinpricks of ominous red light.

"I-I-I, Th-there was nothing I could do-" the soldier quickly defended. "I'd run out of ammo, and my leg was pinned under some debris." Alucard's eyes slowly return to normal, and he let out a sigh. Apparently he wasn't going to hold the survivor responsible for what had happened to his master. No, he'd save ***that*** for the traitorous sniper. At one time, the No-Life King might've actually liked Michael, and he still respected the man's lineage. But for betraying his master, the vampire would force the sniper to eat his own innards before granting him the 'mercy' of death.

"Fine... what happened next? Did they just leave after the traitor turned over my master?" Alucard continued after a moment.

"Um... yeah..." the survivor replied sounding a little unsure of exactly how to phrase his answer. "Well, at first some of them talked about killing us all for what we'd put them through. Can you believe that?" the survivor asked, sounding incredulous. "What **we'd** put **them** through! They're the ones who bloody well attacked us!"

Alucard's eyes began to narrow again, and the survivor wisely chose to check his personal commentary and get back to the facts of what had happened, "But then Michael told them that Sir Integra was your master and that, as long as she still drew breath, you'd come for her no matter where she was. They just looked at each other for a moment; and then a guy in long robes broke into the front of the group, took the boss from Michael, said some weird words; and they all just kind of... vanished."

"A teleportation spell," Alucard mused out loud. That wasn't good. It meant that they could be anywhere... anywhere in the whole, wide world.

* * *

The first thing Integra noticed was a distant dripping sound; and as her consciousness slowly began to return, the dripping seemed to be drawing nearer. Although, in truth, Integra was only becoming more aware of it. It wasn't long before the knight felt wet drops falling upon her forehead.

And then the darkness faded, and her vision began to return. Her head ached; and when she tried to move her hand to wipe her wet brow, she discovered that her arms were shackled above her. She let out a little snort. _'Betrayed, captured and chained- so glad I renewed that little bugger's contract,' _she thought bitterly.

As the knight's eyes adjusted to the dimly lit cell, she suddenly became very aware that she was not the only person in it. "**You!**" Integra growled, sounding as if she hoped she could kill the other prisoner with just her tone.

Michael ceased his struggling and looked over at the enraged Sir Hellsing. "Oh, so you're finally awake? I was beginning to get a little nervous... I didn't think I hit you **that** hard."

Integra jerked against her restraints, and Michael got the impression that were it not for them, she would of already ripped him apart with her bare hands. As it was, there was very little the knight could do, save hurl insults in a venomous tone. "Traitor! Judas! I swear, when I find a way out of this..."

"Now, now," Michael interrupted in a chiding manner. "Don't you think you're over reacting? Just a little? I did save your life after all."

"Save my..." Integra was incredulous. "Save my life?! You waited until my back was turned, knocked me upside the head and delivered me into the hands of my enemies!!!"

"True," the sniper conceded. "But... If I hadn't done that, you would've been killed. So, you see, I did save your life."

Integra calmed down a little, and her voice shifted, from one of pure rage, to a more condescending tone. "Oh, and of course, our current predicament is soooo much better." She pulled against her restraints again to punctuate the statement.

"You know a wise man once said, 'as long as life exists, the possibilities are infinite.' However, if you die..." Michael just let the statement drop there. He turned his head to Integra's right and pressed his mouth to his left forearm, placing the sniper back into the same position he'd been in when Integra first came to.

"Oh yes, torture, starvation..." the knight turned her head as she caught the sound of a squeak. "Disease," she added as she saw a particularly large rat in the corner of the dungeon. "The possibilities are truly infinite," she finished sardonically and let out a sigh.

Michael seemed to be ignoring the comment. He simply continued contorting his arm, neck and head; and as Integra looked more closely at the sniper, she noticed that it appeared as if he was using his teeth to cut into the skin of his forearm. The knight wondered if the sniper was attempting to chew off his arm, like she'd heard coyotes sometimes did when they were caught in traps. However, that seemed like a pretty foolish thing to be attempting. Even if Michael somehow managed to chew all the way through both of his shackled arms, something that Integra highly doubted, it wouldn't accomplish much. After all, how exactly would he go about getting the door open?

"Just what the bloody hell do you think you're doing?!" Integra finally exclaimed.

Michael stopped, spit out a short stream of mixed blood and saliva and then turned his head back to Integra. "I'm escaping," he replied simply then went back to gnawing on his arm.

Integra couldn't believe it. The idiot really was trying to eat through his arm? Obviously, the man had snapped.

But Michael wasn't quite as insane as Integra thought. For a couple of moments, later his teeth closed around something much harder than flesh and blood. From under the skin of his left forearm, Michael extracted a thin, twisted piece of metal. He held it fast in his teeth and forced himself to swallow the blood that had once again built up in his mouth. Then the man turned his head and spit the thin piece of metal into his open right hand. He caught it, inserted it into the lock on one of his shackles and went to work.

"What the? You had a lock-pick sowed into your arm?!" Integra could hardly believe someone would be paranoid enough to do something like that.

"Shhhhs. You want the guard to overhear you?"

"What difference does it make to me? I'm not the one with the lock-pick."

"You don't really think I'm planning on leaving you here, do you?"

Integra responded with a glare that would've made Medusa writhe in envy. "I certainly wouldn't put it past you."

Michael sighed. "Fine, I'm an opportunistic bastard," he consented. "But I'm a smart one. Do you really think that I'd try to sneak and fight my way out of here on my own when I could have a highly trained partner like you, helping me along?"

Integra continued to glare, but kept silent. No, he'd free her all right. He was smart enough to know that they'd stand a better chance if they worked together.

There was a metallic clicking sound, and Michael's right hand was free. Another five minutes passed, and then so was the rest of his body. He walked over to Integra and quickly went to work on her restraints; and as soon as the first one popped open, the knight laid a wallop of a right-cross on him. Michael fell to the cold, dirty dungeon floor. He looked up at Integra, a surprised expression apparent on his face, and rubbed his cheek. "Wha-" the sniper began but was soon interrupted.

"Now we're even," the knight cut in and looked rather pleased with herself. "Now get back to work," she ordered a moment later.

Michael sighed and shook his head but obeyed Integra's order... though he did keep an eye on her right arm while he continued.

(Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please review and let me know what you thought of it. Thanks.

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid.)

(To Kriske: Thanks for the review. I'm glad you're enjoying this and got such a kick out of Baskerville's fledgling tabby. Hope you continue to enjoy. Have a good day, and God bless.)


	12. Chapter 12: As The Plot Turns

**As The Plot Turns**

**AN: **Hey guys and gals. Sorry this fic has been on hold for so long. Hopefully you all haven't completely lost interest. And future updates shouldn't take too long. I'm planning on updating about once every other week from now on.

PS. Oh and just in case anyone's wondering about the review replies at the end of my chapters. I only use those to reply to the people who leave 'anonymous' reviews. To save space, I reply to the rest of my reviewers using the sights internal messaging system.

* * *

Once Integra was freed, Michael took his lock pick and began working on the cell door. The lady knight used this time to arm herself as best as possible.

In the corner was a chained skeleton, a prisoner from long ago who hadn't had the good fortune of having a lock pick sowed into his flesh... or a fellow prisoner so fortunate. Integra moved over to this skeleton, and discovered that it was not quite as old as she'd thought. There were little notches on the bone, which told her that the flesh had been stripped from it by feasting rodents, rather than decomposing naturally. And that... that was good. It meant that the bones would be fresher, stronger.

Reaching down the lady knight latched onto one of the skeleton's ribs, the largest one she could see. And with a great jerk she ripped it free of the rest of the skeleton, leaving a broken, jagged edge on one end. Next she grabbed hold of the skull, a large, bulbous thing; and, without so much as an apology, she tore it free of the spinal column that was it's perch.

Integra slipped her left hand into the skull's cranial cavity, her small fingers curving inward and then clenching together into a fist, as she held the jagged rib firmly in her right. Then, she took a brief moment to reflect on her armaments. They were a little brittle, and she could feel some trace, squishy remains of what had once been the skeleton's brain upon her finger tips. But they were the best she could do under the circumstances.

There was a slight clicking sound accompanied by a quick, expectant inhalation from Michael as the lock on their cell finally bended to his will and the door cracked open. Integra was by the sniper's side in an instant. "What the," he began as he noticed her makeshift weapons.

"Better than bare fists," she interjected, cutting him off.

He raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, I suppose... but I still think it would be best for us to hit a proper armory on our way out."

"Well then," the lady knight replied, an obvious annoyance in her tone, "what are you waiting for? Lead the way."

"Me? With just my bare fists?" he asked, a certain coy, playful tone to his voice. However, one look at the lady knight's narrowed eyes told him that she was hardly in the mood for games. He gulped, and released a nervous chuckle. "Right, age before beauty... follow me."

Integra had to give her 'partner' credit. Despite only being a 'freelancer' he seemed to know his way around... wherever they were being kept – he promised they were nearly to an armory now and they had yet to meet up with any opposition. But then, he always had had a knack for Intel and sneaking around dark corners.

Personally, Integra preferred a straight up fight, a game of chess with every piece visible. Sir Integral Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing was a commander, not an agent. She found games of hide and seek, as the two were currently taking part in, trying on her nerves and half wished that the enemy would just show itself so she could fight in a way more familiar to her.

Of course there's an old saying – "When the gods want to punish us, they answer our prayers." And someone must have wanted to punish Integra very badly, for as the two turned the next corner they ran a foul three large guards on patrol.

"Oh, bugger," Michael commented, eyes wide, as he jumped to the side and narrowly dodged a crossbow bolt.

As the sniper dodged, the lady knight charged. She bellowed out a roar of a battle cry as she charged the largest guard and drove her skeletal rib in between two of his, puncturing one of his lungs.

The other two guards quickly redirected their attention away from the rogue and towards the battle crazed warrior already upon them, but Integra quickly trilled her body, adding both speed and power to her outstretched left arm, and cracked the skull within her fist against that of another guard's, shattering one and badly fracturing the other.

Once Integra's spin was complete she found herself staring at the tip of a loaded crossbow bolt, not more than three inches from her nose. The last remaining guard's lip curled as he squeezed the trigger, but at the last second his steadying arm was grabbed and roughly jerked, knocking the bolt off target. The man was quickly spun around and an open palm was driven into his Adam's apple.

The last guard slumped the the floor, gasping for breath, and Integra used the opportunity to draw back her foot and kick him as hard as she could in the head, possibly knocking him out... but more likely ending his life.

"Why, Michael, so nice of you to join us," the lady knight sardonically commented to the sniper.

"Okay, so maybe my first instinct wasn't to charge at the better equipped and numerically superior enemies, but I did keep that last guard from turning your head into a pin cushion," he defended.

"And if I hadn't charged and thrown them off balance, they would've killed us both."

"Well then... I guess we make a pretty good team," he returned, a subtle grin upon his face.

Integra just huffed and changed the subject. "How much further to that armory?"

"It's at the end of this hallway."

"Good, If I were a betting woman, I'd give even odds that someone else overheard this little... 'altercation', and I think we may need those weapons before much longer."

The armory was fairly large and stocked with a mixture of conventional weapons and those unlike anything Integra had seen before. Across from racks of automatic rifles strange, slightly curved staffs rested almost ominously against a wall covered in arcane symbols the lady knight could not identify. Suits of modern Kevlar stood side by side with ancient metal armor, some of which glowed with a strange inner light or felt suspiciously cool to the touch. In the corner crates of explosives, normal ammo and luminescent gems were scattered without any seeming rime or reason. To say that the unfamiliar sight conjured up uneasy feelings in the pit of Integra's stomach would've been an understatement.

Still, if necessity was the mother of invention, then desperation was the father of determination. Integra was desperate for weapons she could use to fight her way out of the castle like prison, and she was determined to make the best of what the Good Lord had presented to her.

She scanned the wall of armor stands until one exceptional set caught her attention. It was a mixture of black and gold with red trimmings and felt as though it was made out of some bizarre material, akin to both steel and bone, but what struck the lady knight most of all was that when she attempted to run her fingers down the front of the breast plate some invisible force held them a half inch away from the material. Obviously the suit had some protective ward, some enchantment designed to safe guard its wearer.

Removing the breast plate from the stand, Integra attempted to put it on, and found the task a simple one. Apparently whatever force held outside objects at bay did not extend inside the armor. The lady knight smiled smugly at her find and suited up, covering her torn, Gucci, business suit with the otherworldly armor.

Then she took a few seconds to test out her mobility. The suit was heavy but not terribly restrictive, and she figured she could manage it. Unfortunately, the armor lacked a helm, so she was forced to claim a mismatched helmet with a T-shaped opening from one of the other suits.

Moving to the racks of weapons Integra found a long sword that seemed to be made out of the same material as her armor. The handle was slightly warm to the touch; and as she examined the blade, she noticed small flame like patterns dancing across it. The lady knight claimed the sword as her own.

She then turned to find that Michael too had geared up. He was wearing a light Kevlar suit, and a Dragunov sniper rifle rested across his shoulder. "Well what do you think of our chances now?"

"Better than they were."

"What do you say we improve them a little more?" the sniper asked with a roguish wink as he patted a nearby crate labeled "CAUTION! C4".

Both of them smiled. "I'll find the detonators," Integra replied, "while you open that crate." Setting off that much C4... in a place already loaded with ammunition and explosives – they could very well cave in that entire side of the castle, a fitting diversion that would distract everyone long enough to cover their escape. Maybe that sniper wasn't completely useless after all?

* * *

Alucard, Baskerville, Seras and Fluffy were all still standing amongst the rubble that had once made up the walls of Hellsing manor. Seras had called an ambulance for Walter... and the other human survivor, and they'd already been taken to the nearest hospital. But Seras didn't feel any better. Sure, the two human survivors were going to be okay – and that was certainly a good thing in her book – but now that she had done all she could for them she had nothing to divert her mind from the fact that no one, not even her master, knew where his master was... or even how to find out. They were cut off, no leadership, no Intel, no direction.

It was then that the room (or perhaps it's better to say what was left of the room) they were standing in filled with a strange smoke. Seras and the animal vampires coughed; her master, however, who long ago abandoned living instincts such as breathing (save for when verbal communication necessitated it), just stood where he was, silent as a statue, but with an expectant look upon his face.

The smoke cleared quickly, aided by the room's recent increase in 'cross ventilation', but in its wake it left an odd looking man. He was short, but not enough to be labeled a midget or dwarf, standing about Seras's height. Colorful, almost regal looking robes clothed his body, and a somewhat funny looking beard covered the lower regions of his face. In one hand he held a long staff, the top of which may have been decorated with an eye – Seras's would've had to have gotten closer to know for sure, something she had absolutely no intention of doing if she could avoid it. But the most bizarre thing about the man was not his strange staff or clothing, but rather his eyes, which were yellow and very much resembled those of a cat.

"Good day, Demons," the man spoke in a jovial tone laced with an accent that reminded Seras of the Judas Priest's. "Wondering where your master is, I take it. Well, I may be able to help you with that."

"Oh, really?" Alucard replied coyly before lunging at the intruder. "What have you..."

The vampire's question hung unfinished as the odd man struck the floor with his staff and disappeared from view. He then reappeared a split second later, standing besides Seras, one arm wrapped around her shoulder and a blood pack in his other hand. "Tut-tut, Vlad-ie, I'm not your enemy. Believe it or not I'm here to help you."

"Get your arm off of her," the vampire growled as he turned to where the strange man had reappeared.

The man's lip curled slightly, but he complied with the vampire's 'request'. "Sure thing, Vladie – don't want you flying off the handle again... or maybe I do? Hmmm. No, I think not – not yet anyway."

"Who... who are you," Seras asked turning to the likely deranged interloper who'd had his arm around her neck a moment earlier.

"Now, now," he replied in a chiding manner. "That would be telling... Besides, I do so hate to repeat myself, and we don't have all the players together yet, do we?" He paused for a moment, and Seras wondered if he was actually expecting an answer to the question. But then, just as she started to open her mouth, he continued, "No, I don't think we do. So, to that end, I'll tell you that the one you seek is in Istanbul. Do with that information as you desire." The man then raised his empty hand and waved at the vampires. "Bye now." And with that he disappeared in another puff of smoke.

* * *

Keith finished gassing up his T-bird and got back inside. He then did a double take at what he saw. "Where," he asked, brow furled, "did you get that?"

Alison finished sucking the blood from the plastic pouch in her hands and then turned to look at the one who'd released her from the Order's grasp. "While you were inside, paying for the gas, a funny, little man appeared in your seat. He gave me the blood pack and told me that we needed to head back to Istanbul. Said we'd find allies there."

Keith just sat there for a moment, puzzled expression plastered across his face. "A funny looking man just appeared in here while I was out paying, gave you a blood pack and told you that we needed to head back towards the people trying to capture you?"

The 'girl' nodded.

"And you believe him?"

She shrugged. "He was able to teleport in and out of here in the blink of an eye. I suspect if he'd been trying to recapture me, I wouldn't have still been here when you got back."

"Yeah... but, who was he?"

She shrugged again. "How am I suppose to know? All I can remember is what's happened to me in the last four days. The only people I know are those who were at that Order base, and I can assure you I never saw him there. Maybe he's Santa Clause, come to give us an early Christmas present. Maybe he's the Devil in disguise. But he did give us a tip on where to go; so, unless you've got a better idea, he's the best lead we have for the moment."

Keith sighed. Alison was right. It wasn't much of a lead, but it was the best they had. And it made sense to follow it – cautiously – until something better came along. He pulled back onto the road and began heading back in the direction he'd come from. "Okay, but I've got a bad feeling about this," the ex-marine grumbled, half under his breath.

* * *

To Kriske: Yes, Michael did deserve that punch, but still if he hadn't done what he'd done... Well, anyway, I hope you're still enjoying this.

To Nobdy: Yes, I've finally updated. Sorry about the long wait, especially since (at one time) this was your favorite fic on this site. I'm afraid I just got busy with other fics and had hit a writers block with this one. Hopefully I'm through that now though. Well, thanks for the review. :) I'm glad you've been enjoying this and hope you continue to.

To Lara: Hehe, sorry about the long wait. :( But I finally managed to bring this back from hiatus, and I know that you were able to enjoy some of my other fics during the interim. So... no hard feelings, right? :P Anyway, thanks for the review. :) I'm glad you like my writing style and enjoy the struggles each of the characters are going through.

To Kenneth: You mean I got your first review? Cool! :) Thanks. I'm glad you enjoyed the first eleven chapters and hope you haven't completely lost interest in this (what with the long wait). Sorry about that. It's just that this fic has been on hiatus and is only now coming back. Well, I hope you enjoyed chapter twelve as much as the first eleven.

Well, everyone, hope you enjoyed the new chapter. Please leave a review and let me know what you thought. Thanks.

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid.


	13. Chapter 13: Travel Arrangements

**Travel Arrangements**

Seras was surrounded by darkness. Not even a crack of light could be seen through where the ebony coffin lid met its main body. It was... not SO different from her own 'resting place' in that regard. Yet that was the only similarity between the two. Though Seras's coffin was still one by definition, in truth it was more like an extra large bed than anything else – the only difference being that the mattress of her 'bed' descended into the frame and a large lid lowered over it.

But this... this was completely different. This was a REAL coffin, albeit an antique, high class one – the interior coated in a mixture of satin and red velvet. Seras had to admit, it was comfortable. However, it was also unsettling. The fledgling's heart wouldn't stop racing as she felt as if she'd been buried alive, and she wished that she were on the outside, sitting in one of the plane's first class... or even coach seats, with the light cast through the plane's windows and other living beings around her.

"That kind of life is lost to you forever, Police Girl. It would be best to stop longing for what you can't have and learn to embrace things as they are," a soft voice whispered, and Seras felt a cold breath tickle her ear.

"Master?" she whispered back in reply, her tone tinged with surprise. "What... What are you doing?!" she continued more loudly, surprise giving way to shock as strong arms slid over her sides, from behind, and wrapped tightly around her body.

Alucard chuckled. "Police Girl," he cooed, "have you forgotten who's coffin you're in?"

"N-No, but... but aren't you suppose to be in your seat?"

"We'll be leaving the English coast soon, and even one such as I cannot pass over the open seas without feeling... 'drained' by the experience. And so, I have retired to my coffin – less suspicious than being 'dead' in my seat and then suddenly reviving when the plane reaches its destination, don't you think?"

Seras's eyes narrowed. True, it wouldn't be good for their cover if some flight attendant found her master dead, and then spotted him walking around later that day. Still... funny how he hadn't told her anything about this when he'd been packing her into his coffin for transport.

"Now, now," the ancient vampire chided, "I can hardly be blamed if you assumed that just because I was purchasing the plane ticket I'd be staying in my seat..." Alucard paused and leaned his head in even closer to his fledgling's ear. "Instead of joining you in the cargo hold," he continued in a hushed whisper.

"B-but, Master, I-I..."

"Why, Seras, I'm beginning to think you don't trust me," the monster replied in a somewhat mock-hurt tone. "Really, though... We've already spent a day together in your coffin, and your 'virtue' remains intact, does it not?"

That was true. As far as she knew, her master hadn't tried anything... exceptionally perverted after weaseling his way into her 'bed'. Maybe she was over reacting? "Well... Yes, but..."

The No-Life King silenced his fledgling by pressing a gloved finger to her lips. "Then just relax. We'll be passing over the Atlantic soon; close your eyes and try to get some rest."

And Seras dropped her guard enough to listen to his reassuring whispers. She closed her eyes and relaxed into her master's strong arms as the plane passed over the shoreline and the fledgling felt her energy beginning to wash away.

In a nearby animal carrier, a monstrous, black hound gently nuzzled the orange tabby lying between his outstretched paws. Then he let out a yawn. Resting his long head on the smaller creature's back, Baskerville closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

The large, oak door slowly creaked open as a head poked its way outside. A pair of emerald green eyes moved over the two people standing on the church's door step. Yet, it was not the eyes that first drew Integra's attention. No, the lady knight's attention was first drawn to the white and black wimple that encircled the other woman's head. Integra's eyes went wide; but the nun before her didn't notice, her own gaze having settled on the sniper by Integra's side.

"Michael?" The nun sighed. "What brings you here *this* time?" she asked and Integra noticed that the woman's English was strangely toned. Obviously it wasn't her first language.

"Sister Debra, always a pleasure," Michael replied, "I need to speak to Father Thomas."

The nun sighed once more. "Let me guess. You've gotten yourself into trouble, and so you've come here seeking sanctuary… Again! Honestly, if you keep on this self destructive path, one of these days you're going to wind up in trouble with no one to pull your rear out of the flames."

A roguish grin spread across the sniper's face. "I'm afraid we've messed up the order here; sermons are suppose to take place *inside* the church, are they not?"

The nun shook her head and then stepped aside. "Well then, come on in. Tomas is taking confessions right now," she responded as she motioned to the confessional booth that rested upon the church's right wall. "You might consider actually making one while you're in there."

Michael fired off a quick salute as he headed for the booth, but Integra just waited in the center aisle, still a little dazed by the fact it was a Catholic church that Michael had led her too. "Requesting sanctuary from the Catholics? If Maxwell ever finds out about this, I'll never live it down," the knight grumbled beneath her breath.

She stared around the church and reflected that it's interior was not completely different from the Protestant one she frequented back home. The basic design was the same, pulpit in the front with rows of pews sprouting outward in an arch pattern. In the far right corner a large organ was positioned behind an empty box which the lady knight assumed held the choir during services. The walls were made out of stone which had aged, as best Integra could figure, at least a century – perhaps more. And of course the windows were all made of stained glass, depicting events from the Bible or church history.

Then Integra's brow furled slightly as one of the stained glass murals caught her eye. She recognized some of the other depictions – the Baby Jesus lying in his manger, the Last Supper, Christ's death on the Cross and resurrection from the grave. Others she could at least guess at, like the various scenes of past saints martyred for their faith. But this one image had her completely baffled.

A weeping man knelt with the body of a great, grey hound in his outstretched arms. And above the man a ray of light illuminated a scene of the same hound standing between a baby and a large serpent. The caption at the bottom read, "Quam velociter nos censor."

Briefly Integra considered asking the nun what the scene was about, but her pride refused to let her. So, after staring at the strange depiction for over a minute, the lady knight decided it would be best to just forget about it for the time being, maybe try to look it up or ask her own minister about it if it was still bothering her when she returned home.

_Home_, the lady knight thought nostalgically. She was standing there, seeking sanctuary, in a Catholic church – cut off from her men, her servants, her cigars and familiar weapons – and being forced to place her trust in a deserter, who'd already betrayed her once, in order to survive. Somehow 'home' seemed worlds away.

"Well, we're all set – told you to trust me." The words came from somewhere behind Integra's back, snapping her out of her nostalgia; and the lady knight turned to find Michael standing beside a man clothed in what would be politely described as 'weathered' priest's robes.

The worn and faded robes, however, did not seem out of place on the man who wore them, for his face was creased with the lines of age. And his long hair, pulled into a pony tale behind his head, was white as snow.

He was also tall and broad, and thick, crooked fingers curved around a walking staff fashioned from two long pieces of black wood. Integra caught a flash of light, reflected off of something emblazoned on one of the pieces of black wood. But that part of the staff faced away from her, and she couldn't quite make out what it was that was pressed into the wood.

Though the man was old, and even looked it, he seemed to bare only superficial signs of his age. His back was not bent. His stomach was flat, and when he walked there was no indication of pain or discomfort of any kind.

This strange combination of age, strength and projected over all well being, caused the lady knight's thoughts to momentarily wander back to her butler. She'd not seen him since the attack upon her mansion. He hadn't even been present during her last stand, and she assumed that meant that he was injured, knocked out... or worse; for she knew that, if at all humanly possible, Walter would've been at her side during that moment of crises.

Integra hoped her loyal butler had somehow survived the fight, and even said a quick prayer for him under her breath. "Trust you," she then replied to Michael, "if I hadn't made that mistake I wouldn't be in this predicament in the first place."

"Come now, I thought we were past that – water under the bridge and all that," Michael responded.

The priest beside him chuckled slightly. "Think all you want, Son... But, though she may forgive, a woman never forgets a slight."

"Oh? And this is the part where the old, greyed and *celibate* priest starts giving me advice on women?" Michael quipped back with an air of familiarity that took Integra by surprise. She'd never pictured the sniper as a dutiful church goer and now wondered just where he new this priest and nun from.

Thomas smiled wryly. "I was not always as old as I am now, my son," he replied simply.

"Great," the nun cut in sarcastically. "So you've both 'known' your fair share of women. Perhaps you'd like to go to the nearest tavern, order a pint of ale and continue this reminiscing? No? Then do you think we can behave in a manner more befitting a House of God and begin making accommodations for our... 'guests'."

Her reprimand finished, the small nun began to walk away – to get started on those preparations, Integra assumed. And as the nun headed down the long aisle, the lady knight noticed something about the girl's walk. It was unbalanced, not clumsy or uncoordinated, but unbalanced, almost as if a part of her was missing and that absence was throwing off her center of gravity.

"You'll... have to forgive Sister Debra," Thomas apologized. "She's had a... 'difficult' year, and her own past weighs heavy on her at times."

Integra nodded in understanding, though in truth she wasn't sure there was anything to forgive. As far as she was concerned Michael's and Thomas's discussion had been rather inappropriate considering the circumstances, and she thought that if the situations were reversed she might have reacted the same way Debra had. Still, between the priest's familiarity with roguish Michael, the nun's headstrong (and somewhat disrespectful reaction) and that strange mural about the man with his dead hound, it was clear to the lady knight that this was no ordinary church (Catholic or otherwise) which she found herself taking sanctuary in.

* * *

Consciousness returned slowly to Seras, her dreams fading away as the fog slowly lifted and she again became aware of her physical form. The area around her was still dark. A large object with some give to it was positioned right up against her back. The satin and velvet beneath her felt nice, and she felt... She felt very, very good.

The fledgling let out an involuntary moan of pleasure before her groggy mind cleared further and she became aware of a soft pressure upon her neck and a slight stinging sensation in the same. It was then that realization dawned on the young vampire, and she understood what was happening. "Master! You're..." She paused in shock. "You're feeding on me!"

Alucard chuckled into his fledgling's neck, causing a light tickling sensation, before retracting his fangs and running his tongue over the wound until it was sealed by the vampiric saliva.

Seras just laid there for a moment while her brain came to terms with how she'd woken up. "Master, what... what did you think you were doing?!" she demanded, quickly rolling around to face the one who'd been lapping at her neck.

Alucard grinned, the red glow of his eyes casting just enough illumination on his face for Seras to be able to make it out. "Why, having a little snack for breakfast... just as you observed, Police Girl. Despite becoming a vampire, your blood is still very, very sweet – like honey. No, that doesn't quite do it justice. It has more body than honey. Strawberry wine... yes, that's it – fine, aged strawberry wine. What a wonderful breakfast snack."

"Master, you can't... That's my... You..." Seras stuttered unable to put her thoughts into words. "You had no right!" she finally blurted out.

The No-Life King seemed amused by this statement. "No right?" he questioned. "You are my fledgling, Seras. I offered you my blood once, and that offer is still open... but until such a time as you choose to accept it, you belong to me. That includes your blood..." he paused as the two red pinpricks of light that were his eyes moved up and down, scanning the girl's form. "Among... other things," Alucard then continued.

"M-Master, p-please... Y-you promised."

"Oh? Did I, Police Girl? I recall no promise, only a reminder of what had happened in the past," the ancient vampire replied in a smug tone. "However," he continued a second later. "Once again, you are quite right. You may be mine, but I'll not lay claim to your 'virtue'. You remain free to do with that as you please. Your blood, on the other hand, is another matter."

Seras's face scrunched up as she wondered how to react to her master's brazen act and words. Various emotions – anger, fear, relief... and even lust – battled for control. Finally the young girl tried to deflect the real issue at hand. "Master, you... you could have hurt me."

"Hurt you?" the monster scoffed. "Hardly. The amount I drank from you was minuscule, less than a pint. Even a human wouldn't be threatened by such a small loss. Besides... judging by the way you were pressing into me, you were getting as big a thrill out of 'donating' as I was drinking."

Seras blushed and tried to think up an appropriate response. "That's not... I..."

Suddenly the two were jerked as the plane they were traveling in landed.

Alucard grinned once more. "Sorry, Police Girl, but I believe we've reached our destination. Time for me to exit the plane and reclaim my... 'possessions'." And with that, the No-Life King ghosted through the rear of the coffin and disappeared from sight.

"His 'possessions'." Seras let out a huff. Then she raised her hand, balled it up into a fist and drove it into the velvet coating where her master's head had been a second earlier. Integra was right; dealing with Alucard could be frustrating as hell.

* * *

Alison had lost consciousness again as her and Keith crossed the Bosphorus Bridge once more. But this time she'd 'woken up' almost immediately after they reached the other side. And this time she'd awoken troubled by a strange dream she'd had while asleep.

The vampire hadn't been out long – after all it didn't take long to drive across a bridge. But in that time she'd seen a flash of two people she didn't recognize standing outside a dark looking church. One of the people form Alison's 'dream' had been a blue-eyed woman with long, flowing, platinum-blonde hair. This woman was dressed in a strange, fantasy looking, suit of armor and held a long, faintly glowing sword in her right hand. The person beside her was a man dressed in what resembled SWAT or light military body armor. And rather than a sword, this man wielded a large rifle with a scope mounted on the top. Together the two formed quite a contrast – fantasy/adventure meeting modern action.

And Alison wasn't sure if it was really a dream... or something else entirely. Could it have been a vision... or perhaps a memory? She didn't know.

But one thing she did know was that upon awakening, she'd felt a strange instinct, a subconscious drive, tugging at her, trying to pull her in a specific direction. And Alison wasn't sure how, but she knew where they needed to go to meet up with those promised allies.

Keith, however, didn't seem completely convinced. He repeatedly grumbled that he was foolish to be taking directions from "what could be nothing more than indigestion from a spoiled blood pack". But, though he complained, he still followed his companion's 'gut'. The ex-marine only hoped it wasn't leading them both on a wild goose chase.

* * *

Well, everyone, hope you enjoyed the new chapter. Please leave a review and let me know what you thought. Thanks.

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid.

To Lara: I'm pleased that my last update made you happy. :) Hopefully you enjoyed this chapter as much. And a Happy New Year to you too. ;)

To Ancient of the Wolfwood Clan: No, not given up... just needed to step back and wrap up some other fics first. Sorry about the wait, but I'm glad you "really enjoyed" the last chapter. :) Hopefully you liked this one too. Oh, and the armor Integra picked up last chapter wasn't from the Castlevania games. It was 'vanilla' Daedric armor from Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion. In case you're interested here's the web address of an online picture "ww w. oblivion info. de/images /r/r _daedric. jpg" (just take out the spaces). Integra's looks the same, sans the helmet and shield... and the fact that it's on a woman instead of a man. :P


	14. Chapter 14: Reunion pt1

**Reunion (pt.1)**

**AN: **Sorry that this one's a little on the short side. Haven't had as much time for writing this last week – what with Mass Effect 2 and all. :P But hopefully you guys and gals won't mind too much. And the next update should be full sized :) Although, due to some business I have to take care off over the next couple of weeks, it might be a week late. :(

* * *

Alucard could feel his Master's presence almost as soon as the plane touched down. She wasn't near, but she was somewhere in Istanbul. The tip from that mysterious, funny looking man had been accurate.

The ancient vampire was back in his seat now, waiting for the plane to come to a complete stop and the doors to open up. He could've simply ghosted through the walls of the plane, or even dropped down through its underbelly as soon as its wheels hit the pavement. But that might have drawn suspicion.

People saw him enter the plane, and they would expect to see him leave as well. Many humans were oblivious to anything that was happening outside of their own , little world. But a few were more observant, and Alucard wasn't going to take the chance of blowing his cover, not yet at least.

He and his fledgling... and the two beasts were in a foreign land, a foreign land where an unknown enemy force was, to the best of his knowledge, holding his master prisoner. But the enemy did not know that the vampires had come to free their master. And that gave them an advantage, one that the five-hundred-year-old general was not about to risk.

And so he waited, though he was not a creature generally disposed to such. He waited until all the passengers were permitted to leave the plane. Then he waited some more while the cargo hold was unpacked and his 'possessions' (one animal carrier, one ebony coffin and two crates) were returned to him. And then he waited just a little bit longer, until such possessions had been packed into the rental car (a hearse) that Seras had arranged to be left for them in the airport parking lot.

And only then did the ancient vampire tap the lid of his coffin and signal to Seras that it was safe to come out. The master vampire noticed that his fledgling seemed tense, more so than was usual, and wondered if this was due to his earlier 'breakfast snack'. After all, she did seem to be giving him a fairly wide berth as she crawled out of the coffin and made her way to the driver's side of the vehicle. But then he brushed such pondering aside.

This was not a time for speculating about his fledgling, not when his master's life was in danger. No, this was a time to remain focused on the task at hand. It was a time to follow that indescribable tugging on his gut, to follow it to where the Order was holding Integra... and make the city streets run red with the blood of those who dared steal what was his – his master, Sir Integral Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing.

No one stole from Vlad Dracula and lived to tell of it.

* * *

"Are you sure this is the place?" Keith asked, his face holding a look of skepticism.

"We drove around it three times; yes, I'm sure. The trail – whatever it was – leads here," The young, female vampire standing beside him replied as she eyed the building wearily.

"Alright," Keith responded with a resigned sigh, "But I think I should go first this time. The priest may take one look at you, have a nervous break down and bar the door."

"Or start quoting Scripture verses and slinging blessed silver objects at me," the little vampire half joked before wondering what part of her subconscious had conjured up that image. In her past life, had she frequently battled zealot priests? Or was the statement nothing more than it appeared to be on the surface, a witty jib at the ancient feud between men of God and creatures of darkness? Either way the girl stepped back, into the shadow of a nearby tree, as her traveling companion approached the church door.

Keith knocked on the old wood, waited a moment and, having received no response, knocked again. This time the door swung open, and the ex-marine was greeted by the sight of a man a full head taller than himself.

In addition to being tall, the man before him was also large and, despite his obvious age, would've been a little imposing were it not for the warm grin that curled his lips. Weathered, black robes told Keith that this was the chapel's priest, and if any doubt remained, the man's next words dispelled it.

"Good night, my son, may I ask what brings you here at this late hour?"

"I was told I might find help here, Father."

The priest's head tilted down slightly. "Then you have come to the right place; there is no greater help to be found than the Lord." And with that the priest stepped aside and allowed Keith to enter. However, the door did not close behind the ex-marine, nor did the priest turn to face the interior of his church. "Your companion does not wish to enter?" the priest asked as he stared at the figure obscured by shadows.

"She, ah-" Kieth began but was soon interrupted.

"I'm not sure I'd be welcome," the vampire cut in as she took a step forward.

For a moment the priest's eyes went wide from surprise, and he looked thoughtful. But he recovered quickly. "Everyone," the priest replied, "*Everyone* is welcome in our Father's house."

Now it was Alison's turn to look surprised. Her knowledge of vampires was limited, but she knew enough to not expect a civil greeting from the aged priest – much less an invitation to enter his church. Still, the invitation was given; it would be rude of her to refuse. And so the small vampire, followed the ex-marine into the church.

They had barely entered before a nun emerged from somewhere behind the raised pulpit area. "Alright, Father Tomas," the nun spoke as she appeared, "I've set our guests up with a room in the back. Hopefully they don't..." The nun's voice trailed off and her whole body tensed as she caught sight of their second set of guests.

Reaching into a fold of her habit, the nun produced a small throwing star and hurled it straight at Alison's chest. However, before the weapon could reach its target, Thomas stretched out his staff in front of the small vampire. And ... the silver star struck the staff, embedding itself in the black wood.

"Sister Debra," the priest quickly responded, "This is a house of God, as you were so kind as to remind me earlier. There is to be no killing here!"

"A house of God is no place for a blood sucking vampire!" the nun bellowed back.

"Indeed? Did Christ turn away *any* who sought him?"

"There are limits," the nun strained through grit teeth.

"To which – the Lord's love... or His forgiveness?"

"Oh? And the creature has asked for forgiveness, has she?"

The priest paused. "No," he replied a second later, "But neither has she caused harm to anyone since entering, and as such no harm is to befall her." He paused again, this time for emphasis. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly clear, Father," the nun answered, her green eyes filled with venom, "I'll just wait until she tries to drain someone then." She scoffed, turning from the priest to the chapel's other human occupant. "I suppose you've come to meet with that Protestant knight? Yes, yes... what else would bring a soldier and a vampire to our, little church?" she asked sardonically, "I'll let Integra know that she has company."

And with that, the nun turned around and headed back the way she'd come, leaving Keith and Alison to cast strange looks at one another, wondering just what they'd gotten themselves into now.

* * *

"So, how do you want to handle this?" Michael asked now that things were calm enough for him and Integra to actually plan more than one step ahead.

"First I need to find a way to reestablish contact with my... pets."

"And then?"

"And then we hurt this 'Order'," Integra answered, and her eyes seemed to light up at the thought.

"That could be difficult," Michael commented. "You don't have many men left, and... Well, you saw first hand the kind of power and equipment at their disposal."

The lady knight's eyes narrowed. "They came into my country, attacked one of my servants, laid siege to my mansion, killed my men and dragged me over here in chains. Every confrontation has been in my territory, and they've all gone the Order's way. You want to know why? It's *because* they've all been in my territory," Integra growled. "Nobody ever defended anything successfully; there is only attack," she continued, emphasizing her words by pounding her fist into her open palm repeatedly, "attack and attack some more!"

"More Churchill?" the sniper questioned.

"No. Patton," the lady knight replied, and the edge of her lip curled ever so slightly. "And he was right. We've taken enough blows; it's time to strike back... HARD!"

"Besides, you said that you doubted the Order could have more than four hundred members, and my men fought well when we were attacked. There can't be *that* many of them left." Integra then added almost as if that analytical assessment was an afterthought.

Michael shook his head back and fourth slowly then lowered it in acceptance. "Okay, fine. We go on the offensive. But with just the two of us, our options are limited."

"Haven't you been listening?" Integra challenged. "Didn't you hear me say I need to contact my pets first?"

Michael bit his lip. He'd heard her alright, but he was hoping that he might be able to sidetrack her into forgetting about that – an extreme long shot at best. But after what the sniper had pulled back at Hellsing manor, he was not at all looking forward to meeting back up with Alucard. Sure, everything had worked out for the better, at least as far as Michael was concerned, but that was no guaranty that the red coated killer wouldn't still tear him to shreds – either on principle... or simply in a blind rage over the fact that he'd had the audacity to assault the monster's master.

"Yeah, about that... When you contact them, you will, of course, mention how I gallantly rescued you from that cell... right?"

"Gallantly rescued?" Integra questioned. "Funny, the way I remember it, you freed me because you knew you would stand a better chance of escape with me at your side."

Michael made a sour face. Those weren't exactly the reassuring words he'd been hoping to hear. He opened his mouth to reply, but before he could Sister Debra entered the room.

"It seems that you have guests," she informed Integra in a carefully reserved tone.

"Order agents? Already?" Micheal asked abruptly.

"Not unless the Order's suddenly taken to fraternizing with vampires," the nun quipped in response.

And Integra grinned widely. It seemed that her pets had found her all on their own. And now... now she would teach this arrogant order a lesson about messing around in England. Little did she know that the 'guests' the nun was referring to were not Alucard and Seras, but rather a middle aged ex-marine and his 'Alucard-ish', teenage companion.

* * *

Well, everyone, hope you enjoyed the new chapter. Please leave a review and let me know what you thought. Thanks.

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid.


	15. Chapter 15: Reunion pt2

**Reunion (pt.2)**

**AN:** Well, sorry again about the wait. But I've made this chapter a little longer than normal to compensate – hopefully. ;)

* * *

"What the… Who are you?" Integra asked as she stepped into the church's auditorium.

"I... Do I know you?" Alison responded as she stared strangely at the lady knight who was at once a stranger... and yet somehow familiar.

"Keith?" Micheal questioned.

"Michael?!" Keith exclaimed.

And at the same time both the sniper and ex-marine went for their guns. Michael un-shouldered his sniper rifle and brought it to bear, while Keith raised his shotgun. Neither one was within the other's regular firing range, the two being too close for the sniper and a little too far away for the shotgun's spread. Yet, a lucky shot from either could still be lethal.

"Um, Keith?" Alison said in an unfamiliar voice, wondering just what was going on.

"Michael?!" Integra nearly shouted in a commanding tone, demanding an explanation of her own.

"He works for the Order!" the two men exclaimed simultaneously and then cast strange looks at each other, their guns still poised and ready.

"You... you're on the run from the Order too?" Michael finally asked.

"Yeah," Keith began cautiously. "Ever since I busted Alison here out."

"Wait," Integra interjected. "They were holding you prisoner?" she asked as her eyes moved appraisingly over the little vampire. Now that she thought about it, the girl did look familiar. She'd seen a similar creature standing beside her father in one of his old, black and white photos. And this 'girl' had escaped from the Order? "Alucard?"

That word was familiar, though Alison couldn't put any context to it. There was just something about the sound... and the way this woman said it. "What's an 'alucard'? It sounds... familiar."

"Michael, lower your gun," Integra ordered, and, after hesitating for a second, the sniper complied.

Seeing that Michael had already lowered his weapon, Keith followed suit. "I, ah, guess introductions are in order?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I'm Keith, former Order member and ex-marine."

"I'm Alison... Well, I am now at any rate – can't remember much of my life before Keith helped me escape from those... 'mages'." The little vampire spit the last word out as if it had a foul and disgusting taste.

"I'm Michael, former freelancer, now working with Sir Integra and the Hellsing organization... What's left of it anyway."

"And I'm Sir Integral Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing, head of the Hellsing organization..." Integra paused and shifted her focus to the mini-vampire. "And, apparently, your master."

"My... My master?" Alison asked in a confused tone.

"Yes, unless I'm mistaken you're one of the pieces that the Order managed to siphon off from Alucard, my servant."

"Pieces? Siphoned off?"

"Oh," Keith cut in, Integra's words having supplied new information and caused something to click in his head. "Soul Gems and trapping spells... or enchantments – It's gotta be. Old magic. I read about them in one of the Order's history tomes. They were used in ancient... _really_ ancient times to contain the life energy of defeated foes. Somehow, the Order must've used them to steal a part of this Alucard's soul."

"And... that's me?" Alison asked her voice sounding vulnerable – hurt.

"I... I'm afraid so," Keith replied as he placed a comforting hand on the small vampire's shoulder.

"So... the reason I don't remember anything from before a few days ago is because I... because I didn't exist before then?"

Keith didn't reply this time. But he closed his eyes and bowed his head, and that was all the answer the young vampire needed.

"So, then I'm not... not r-real?" Alison continued, as a single crimson tear pooled in the corner of her eye and ran down the porcelain-white skin of her face.

"Reality is what you make of it," Michael offered up in a rare sympathetic tone, and for a minute the group fell silent.

In the far corner of the church's chancel, a tall, dark figure crept up on a shorter, slender one. "It's not polite to eavesdrop," Thomas whispered.

Debra nearly jumped in surprise, but she just barely managed to reign in such a knee-jerk reaction. "Thomas," she whispered back in an accusatory tone. "How many times have I asked you _not_ to sneak up on me like that." She paused. "And... and I'm not eavesdropping. This is... 'intelligence gathering'. How often do we get a chance to observe vampires interacting with humans? This could provide useful information on our enemy."

Thomas sighed. "Sister Debra, you're not with section XIII anymore. Vampires are not your enemies; they're lost souls who need our help." He paused and let the nun cast a look back at the tear stained, young vampire before continuing, "Come on, let's give them their privacy."

Back over in the church's nave, where Integra, Michael, Keith and Alison were gathered in a sloppy semi-circle, the lady knight was the first one to break the silence which had descended upon their small group. "I-I," she stuttered briefly, before regaining her composure. "I'm sorry. I can't imagine what you're going through... But we need to know what the Order wanted you for."

"They... hurt me," Alison replied in a detached tone.

"From what she's told me, I think they were running experiments... though for what reason, I don't know," Keith added in.

And just then there was a knock on one of the church's old, oak doors.

"Order troops?" Keith asked.

"Somehow I doubt they'd knock... considering what's going on." Michael replied.

"Considering what's going on, who would?" Integra responded.

"We knocked." Keith countered, and unconsciously turned to his partner for support in his assertion. But she wasn't where he'd last seen her.

"Come to think of it, so did we," Michael mused allowed as Keith's head pivoted in search of his partner.

He caught sight of her halfway between where she had been and the large wooden doors. "Alison, what are you-"

"They're friends," she cut in simply.

"How do you know?"

"I... just do." And with that she reached the doors and opened one up to find a taller slightly older female vampire standing on the other side.

"Um, excuse me... but is Sir Integra here?" the strawberry-blonde asked somewhat awkwardly.

"Where's my master, you worthless, disgusting piece of..." Alucard began, coming up the stairs behind Seras, but paused in shock as he caught sight of just who'd opened the door. "Me?" he whispered softly as his eyebrows knit together.

Alison just stared up at the red-clad vampire, her own face an un-discernible mask of conflicting emotions.

However, Integra had heard her servant's shouting and she was already on her way to the door. She reached it, and Seras grabbed her and pulled her into a tight hug, lifting the taller woman right off of her feet. "Oh, Integra, You're okay... and you've escaped from the Order?"

"Seras," the lady knight managed to choke out despite being pressed in the anaconda-like grip of a vampiric bear hug, "put me down."

"Huh? Oh," Seras exclaimed as she released her grip on her boss. "Hehe, sorry about that," she apologized while nervously rubbing the back of her neck.

"Good to see you again, Master," Alucard commented as the faintest trace of a genuinely happy smile played across his face.

"You too, Vampire," Integra replied, wearing a slight smile of her own. "Now get in here before someone sees you and starts asking questions that'll blow our cover."

"Yes, Master," Alucard replied and then stuck two fingers in his mouth. He let out a sharp whistle before stepping into the old church, and Baskerville and Fluffy came bounding up the steps behind him. The two vampiric animals were the last to enter before the old, wooden door swung shut behind them.

Almost immediately after entering the church, Alucard spotted Micheal. He was to him in an instant, the vampire's right hand locked around the sniper's throat, lifting him off the ground as the latter struggled for breath. "You, pathetic, traitorous piece of dog shit! I'm going to tear you open and feed you your own spleen!"

"S-Sir, In-Int-Integ..." Michael gasped.

The lady knight shook her head. "Put him down, Alucard," she sighed.

"What?! Why?"

"Because I order you to. That's why!"

Alucard stared at his master with an odd look but complied with her order and released his grip, and with a thud Michael dropped to the floor. He panted, trying to refill his lungs with oxygen, and began rubbing his bruised neck.

"Sir, I don't understand... Didn't he betray you?" Seras asked.

"Yeah... sort of," Integra replied in a tone that sounded as if she wasn't really sure anymore.

"So, why can't I kill him?" Alucard strained, through grit teeth.

"Two reasons, Vampire. One, I'm not going to let you defile a House of God... even if it is a _Catholic_ House of God."

"I could drag him outside," Alucard suggested.

"And two," Integra continued, ignoring her pets suggestion, "I need him. I don't have many soldiers left, and he's... 'capable'... enough."

"But can you trust him?"

"He broke me out of the Order's dungeon, and we blew up a large chunk of their base while escaping. So... yes. After that, I don't see how they could take him back... and considering the accommodations they provided him with last time, I don't think he'd be all that eager to switch sides anyway."

"Well, thanks for the rousing vote of confidence," Michael replied sarcastically, earning him a backhand across the face from the monster still standing in front of him, one that knocked the rising sniper back to the floor.

"Alucard, stop," Integra commanded. "I'm perfectly capable of dealing with back talk from my troops _without_ your assistance. And I don't need you whacking around the last able-bodied soldier we've got."

"Sorry, Master," Alucard replied though his tone and demeanor belied the declaration.

Micheal set his jaw as he rose once more. "Um, with all these vampires here we're going to need some 'supplies' to keep them sated," he began trying to figure out a way to get out of the church and give the homicidal maniac, who wanted to feed him his own spleen, a chance to calm down. "I'll go... 'secure' us some blood packets."

Michael started to head towards the door, but to his surprise Alucard called out, "Yeah, not a bad idea... I'm coming too."

The sniper's eyes went impossibly wide, and his face held an expression a kin to a man suffering a heart attack. He'd wanted to get away from the smoldering psychopath, not be alone with him. Michael gulped and turned around to cast pleading eyes at Integra.

"Someone needs to keep an eye on him... just in case. Besides, we've worked together before," Alucard commented as he too turned to stare at the lady knight.

"Alright," she consented, seeing truth in her servant's words. "But," she quickly added, checking the malicious grin that had begun to form on Alucard's face. "Whatever happens, you are to return him undamaged. Understand?"

Alucard grimaced. "Is that an order, Master? What if he attacks me? Aren't I allowed to defend myself?"

"Oh, I don't think you'd have any trouble subduing him without damaging him. Then you can bring him back here, and _I'll_ decide how to deal with the matter," the knight answered in a smug tone that told her pet she knew he was looking for loopholes and wasn't going to give him any.

"Yes, Master," Alucard replied in deflated resolution as he moved towards the sniper... and the church's exit.

* * *

"Okay. Amerikan Hastanesi, Nisantasi," Michael said while staring through binoculars at the large hospital building. "Bet they've got plenty of blood packets to keep you and the others going for awhile, huh?"

"Yes, I would think so."

"So, how do you want to handle this? Ground floor's probably got an alarm system but we could scale the side of the building and enter through one of the windows... or go all the way up to the roof and work our way down from there."

"I think one of the windows would be our best bet – something on the second or third floor so that if you're forced to jump out when we make our escape, you'll be more likely to survive the landing."

Michael nodded. "Alright. Makes sense."

He started to head towards the building, but Alucard blocked his path. "First... you and I have some unfinished business to discuss."

"What are you talking about?" Michael asked defensively.

"Why did you turn my Master over to her enemies... only to help her escape the Order dungeon later on?"

"What difference does it make? I helped her, and we're all on the same team now. So let's stop wasting night-light and get to our mission." The sniper tried to sidestep the vampire, but Alucard simply moved to block his path once more.

"Motivations matter as much as the actions that result from them. And I would know yours. Now, tell me... or am I going to have to 'retrieve' the information myself?"

"Integra told you I was not to be harmed. Now, help me get those blood packets... or get out of my way," Michael replied as he pushed his way past Alucard's left side.

"Actually, she only told me not to damage you," The vampire responded as he turned after the sniper and extended his hand, telekinetically lifting Michael off the ground.

"And I do have ways of getting what I want without damaging your form. Now, stop squirming," the monster growled as he began to invade the sniper's mind.

"G-get out of my head," Michael said as he brought his hand up to rub his forehead.

"No," Alucard replied as he used his powers to hold the human in place a half inch above the ground, and penetrated further into the sniper's mind. He combed through Michael's thoughts and memories, searching for the answer the sniper had been unwilling to give him. And so the centuries old vampire saw the battle through human eyes.

It was glorious. The fear of death was ever present, a constant reminder of the human's mortality. With ever shot that rang, every foe that fell, Michael's chances of survival increased slightly, and he was very aware of that. He wasn't fighting for pleasure, wasn't killing because he was bored. No, it was more basic than that. He was struggling to survive when the deck was stacked against his side. The rush of adrenaline his body kicked out to try to keep itself going, the knowledge that at any moment a stray bullet could ricochet and permanently end his life, the thrill, relief and sense of accomplishment from each hard-won kill – to the immortal vampire these sensations were narcotic.

How sad it was that humans had no idea what they were blessed with. Most of them would never understand that without that knowledge of their own mortality, without knowing that in every fight there was a chance they would lose – that they would die... Without these things to add spice to life, it lost its allure. And the few who had come to realize this were human no longer, and it was already too late for them to experience the thrill of fear for themselves. It was truly a sad state, a cosmic catch 22.

However, no matter how diverting the thrill of experiencing the battle through Michael's eyes was, it was not what the vampire was searching for. His question remained unanswered. Why had Michael bothered to free his master? Why had he taken part in the fight at all when he could've simply escaped instead?

The sniper was not the kind who needed to fight, to kill, in order to feel alive. Nor was he a patriot or idealist, willing to lay down his life for England or the Hellsing organization. No, the sniper was an opportunist. He was an intelligent, capable operative to be sure... but he was still an opportunist, lacking any firm loyalties to king and country.

No, something other than the cause had kept Michael tied to the monster's master, and Alucard had his theories about what that something might be. But theories made poor foundations. He needed something more concrete. And so, the vampire pressed in further, deeper into Michael's mind, past the simple recollection of events and into the motivations behind the man's actions.

And Michael's struggling increased ten fold, as the sniper desperately tried to steer his own hijacked mind down other paths, to divert the monster in his head and keep it from discovering the truth that could mean his destruction.

Alucard scowled at the struggling human as his mind jumped between sitcom scenes, 10 Years' lyrics, recipes, fantasy-role-playing statistics, everything except what the vampire was after. "Why do you humans fill your minds with such useless trash?" Alucard asked in a mixture of annoyance and disgust as he forced Michael's mind back down the path the monster wanted.

"S-stop!" the sniper called out in pain as his body convulsed, his nerves spasming as a side effect of the wires being crossed in his brain.

"I'll stop when you give me what I'm after," Alucard replied as he continued to probe the sniper's mind.

Michael was persistent in his resistance, but it was ultimately a battle that he couldn't win. Eventually, Alucard eroded the sniper's mental defenses, and wearied him into compliance. And then the monster got the answer he was searching for.

Alucard's lip curled in a mixture of satisfaction and validation (that his initial suspicion had been right). He lowed his hand and let the still quivering sniper's body drop to the ground. Michael laid there, gasping and shaking for a few seconds, before tilting his head to look up at the vampire. The sniper's blue eyes were filled with venom. "Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Aren't you going to kill me?"

Alucard chuckled. "Now why would I do that? These feelings you have for my master will do more to insure your loyalty to her than any fear or intimidation I could hope to inspire. You care little for your homeland, even less for you species in general. You don't believe in causes, and I don't think there's a one of _us_ you wouldn't sell out if it was the only way to save your own hide. But my master," the vampire paused for a moment.

"Love is a disease, a parasite that infects us and causes us to act against our own best interests. It infects our minds and leaves us vulnerable. However, this vulnerability, this weakness to you, is strength to the object of your affection. As long as these feelings persist, you would sacrifice yourself if you believed it was the only way to save my master, and that dedication has value to me."

Michael just stared at the vampire, in wide-eyed confusion. "Three years ago, I had one dream about her and I awoke to find your beady reds leering at me from a chair propped up against the end of my bed. You remember what you said?"

"I warned you that such thoughts were... 'inappropriate', considering that she was your commanding officer."

"You threatened to turn me into a ghoul if you ever caught me dreaming of her again! And now, suddenly, you're okay with it, why?"

"Don't try to understand things beyond your comprehension, Pup. Sufficient to say things change."

Michael stared hard at the vampire for a moment, eying him suspiciously. And then realization slowly crept into the sniper's features. "Wait, this is about Officer Victoria, isn't it?"

"You don't care if I... 'harbor feelings' for Integra anymore because you've switched your focus from your master to your fledgling."

"My relationship with my master and my fledgling are not your concern. They represent bonds that your human mind couldn't possibly hope to understand, and there are … complexities and subtleties to each that you will never know," the vampire replied dismissively.

"Bollocks. You wanted your master all to yourself. But now that you've got a fledgling, you're willing to share Integra." Michael paused for a moment. "But the thing that really surprises me is that you're not trying to have them both. From what I know about your history, that would seem more in keeping with your character."

Alucard's mouth split into a roguish grin that indicated he'd toyed with the idea. "Unfortunately, there are... 'complications' – too many complications to such relationships. Often in such circumstances a man's reach exceeds his grasp... or the division of multiple relationships decreases the strength and value of each. No, I am a man who learns from his history, and I've discovered that such... 'juggling' simply isn't worth it. Better to devote yourself wholly to one partner and reap the harvest of seeds planted in that relationship than to try to tend more than one field."

"You should be careful, Red. Keep talking like that, and people may start to think you've been 'infected' too."

Alucard's eyes narrowed. "Hardly. I am beyond such things. I no longer feel human emotions such as love."

"Only seek out relationships and 'bonds' that a human like me couldn't possibly hope to understand, huh?" Micheal asked as he pushed against the ground and started to rise to his feet once more.

"Yes," Alucard answered as he turned and began to walk away from the sniper, back towards their current objective.

"Bollocks," Michael whispered under his breath before catching up to the large monster in the red over-coat and fedora.

* * *

Well, everyone, hope you enjoyed the new chapter. Please leave a review and let me know what you thought. Thanks.

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid.

To Lara: Thanks. :) I'm glad you thought the last chapter was "fantastic". Personally, I thought it could've used a little bit more work but... well, I was pressed for time when I posted it. Anyway, I'm glad you liked it, and I hope you got as big a kick out of this one. ;)

To Ghost: I'm glad you're enjoying the plot and my attempts at humor. :) Hopefully Integra's first encounter with Girly-Card didn't disappoint. Oh, and thanks for the review. :) Hopefully you'll continue to enjoy this.


	16. Chapter 16: Mounting Tension

**Mounting Tension**

**AN: **Lyrics taken from Manafest's Impossible and _italicized_ for easy distinction from normal text. Scriptural quotes for Thomas and Debra taken from the Catholic Living Bible version of the Bible. (Special thanks to Crow T. R0bot, for pointing out to me that a Catholic priest and nun would be unlikely to quote the KJV, and Lion in the Land for looking up the verses in her Bible and supplying me with the appropriate version of the quotes.)

* * *

After successfully raiding the hospital, Alucard and Michael returned to the church which had become Hellsing's new, temporary base of operations. They deposited three coolers of their ill-gotten loot in the center isle of the church pews, much to the indignation of the small nun who vehemently protested the stolen blood being stowed in the church. "My Temple is a place of prayer, but you have turned it into a den of thieves.*" she quoted with passion.

Fortunately for Integra's pets, however, the resident priest seemed a little more understanding. "Now, Sister Debra, I agree with you that – under normal circumstances -- keeping stolen property here would be something the Lord would consider offensive. But, considering the... unusual 'needs' of several of our guests, I think God would allow an exception. After all, is this not preferable to them being tempted to attack an innocent in order to sate their hunger? And even Christ said, 'Haven't you ever read what King David did when he and his friends were hungry? He went into the Temple, and they ate the special bread permitted to the priests alone. This was breaking the law too.'* Under certain conditions, the Lord does make allowances."

The nun's mouth quickly opened, and at first it seemed as if she was going to continue the debate further. But instead she just stood where she was for a second or two and then closed her mouth, did an abrupt about face and haughtily stormed out of the auditorium.

Thomas sighed lightly, and the expression on his face seemed burdened as he diverted his attention back towards his guests. "Come on, I'll show you where the fridge is. Just, please, try to keep the blood packets on shelves _below_ the rest of our food."

Seras and Alison nodded as they stooped to pick up the coolers. Then the two of them followed the priest out of the auditorium, Baskerville and Fluffy trailing behind, their eyes riveted to the coolers, like dogs watching a platter of large steaks being carried to the grill.

As the priest, two of the vampires and the two undead animals exited the room, Michael said, "Okay, Boss, we're all back together again, and we've got enough 'supplies' to last as a few days... at least. What do you want to do now?"

Integra's head tilted slightly to one side, and she stared quizzically at her only remaining, able bodied soldier. There was something different about him. His demeanor seemed somehow less stressed, more happy. And the tone of his speech was slightly lighter, almost as if some weight had been lifted off of him.

Briefly, the lady knight wondered what could've caused this change. It hadn't been long, just a few hours, since she'd last seen the man. The only thing that had taken place since then was Alucard and Micheal's raid on the hospital. And Alucard didn't exactly have a reputation for putting others at ease. What could've happened to have had such an impact on her sniper?

However, Integra soon realized that such questions were irrelevant to their current situation. Self indulgent musings were not going to crush the Order and avenge her fallen soldiers. Whatever was going on with Micheal's psyche wasn't important as long as it didn't negatively effect his job performance. And a more upbeat attitude rarely effected anything negatively.

So, Integra put such ponderings out of her mind and answered the sniper's question. "Now, we wait. It'll be sun up in a few hours, and my pets' powers will start to wane soon. So, we wait for tomorrow night, when we can attack the Order at full strength."

"Makes sense," Michael agreed.

"Oh, I can't tell you how pleased I am to have your approval," Integra sarcastically replied, drawing a snicker from Alucard... and, surprisingly an odd sort of grin from Michael as well.

Unsure what to make of that grin, the lady knight chose to ignore it, though its mysterious presence did unnerve her a little. Hoping that whatever bizarre spell had settled upon the sniper would pass in time, Integra chose to turn around and walk away.

* * *

Nearing the back room, which the priest had granted to her as part of her and Michael's sanctuary, Integra soon began to hear muffled music coming from somewhere beneath her feet. The lady knight cast an inquisitive look around her, and after a half second of searching, her gaze rested on a descending staircase at the end of the hall. Her natural curiosity got the better of her, and Integra soon found herself walking down the stone steps.

The stairs led her to a large, wooden door with black, metal braces running along its edges and a large, iron loop for a handle. Integra reached for the handle and hesitated... but only a moment. Without conscious thought, her free hand glided over to her sword. And then the knight pulled on the large, iron loop. The hinges of the old door squeaked as it opened, but the sound was mostly drowned out by the music, which, now that the large door was no longer containing, practically roared its chorus in Integra's ears.

_It seems impossible, for me to let this go.  
Feel like an animal, I'm ready to lose control.  
Take everything you need, take every part of me.  
Give me some room to breathe, before I lose control._

Doing her best to ignore the blaring music, Integra entered the chamber beyond the doorway. The walls were made out of the same kind of stone as the rest of the church, but these walls, as well as the floor beneath the knight's feet, were caked with dust – in sharp contrast to the almost immaculately clean upper rooms. And there was another difference too. The walls in this lower room were pitted with large indentations, and within most of these indentations rested coffins, all from various time periods.

Integra recognized the room she was now in as the church's crypt and wondered why it wasn't kept up the same way as the church's main sections. She didn't spend a long time pondering this, however, because her attention was soon diverted by the rapid movement of something at the edge of her peripheral vision.

Quickly whipping her head around, Integra beheld the source of the movements that she'd previously only gleaned flashes of. It was Sister Debra. The nun was wielding a Halberd, a large, medieval weapon that stood a half a foot taller than her. It was a strange instrument, a sort of cross between a spear and an ax – with a six-foot metal shaft, tailored to a fine point at the top and bottom, and a protruding edge which could cleave through most armors like an ax through wood. And to Integra's surprise, the small nun handled the bulky weapon with both expertise and finesse.

_I got to get away.  
Got a break away.  
Save Me.  
Got to find away.  
Got to break the chains.  
Take me.  
Before I lose control.  
Before I lose control.  
It seems impossible.  
It's not impossible._

Integra didn't say a word. Instead she just watched as the nun lunged, withdrew, repositioned, parried and swung with her weapon, engaging imagined enemies in a graceful dance of death. It was beautiful, violent, but beautiful. Clearly this young woman before her had spent a great deal of time practicing with her weapon, for the two moved so perfectly together that it seemed as if the Halberd was less of a weapon and more a natural extension of the nun's body.

And as this thought crossed the lady knight's mind, she noticed something else as well. The slight imbalance she'd previously observed in Sister Debra's movements was now gone. Yes, with that ancient, bulky weapon in her hand, the nun was complete, her movement's liquid, flowing like water.

Then Debra spun around, her body providing the anchor for the outstretched Halberd which 'sling-shotted' around her in a devastating, clearing arch. And as her body rotated at the center of the cyclone of death, the nun's eyes went wide as she noticed that she was being watched.

_I'm tired, so tired of walking through this fire.  
If you want to find me, I'll be here, in my room._

For a second, Sister Debra neither moved, nor spoke. Then, recovering from her surprise, she quickly moved to the boom box, which rested in one of the 'unoccupied' stone indentations, and shut it off. "Wh-what are you doing here?" the nun asked as she turned back towards the lady knight.

"I heard the music and wondered where it was coming from," Integra replied simply and then waited for the other woman to speak again. She didn't, and an awkward silence fell between the two. "So," Integra began again after a moment. "Where did you learn to fight like that?" she asked, though she was fairly certain she already knew the answer.

"Section XIII, the Iscariots," the nun answered, confirming Integra's suspicion.

"So, you're Section XIII?"

Debra shook her head. "No, not for the last couple of years anyway."

"You just left?" Integra sounded surprised.

"I... Something happened on one of my missions... Afterwards I decided I could serve God better with an open hand than a closed fist."

"So, that display I just witnessed was?"

"Nothing wrong with a girl keeping in shape," Debra defended.

"Nice way to blow off some steam too," Integra agreed as a knowing grin tugged at the corner of her lips.

"Yeah," Debra replied as she returned the expression. "That too."

"Any interest in a sparring partner?" the lady knight asked as her hand drew near her sword once more.

"Actually, that could be... interesting," the warrior nun replied as she moved back towards the center of the chamber. "Just start off easy on me, okay? I've heard stories about you... and I'm a little out of practice."

"Not from what I've seen," Integra complimented, and for the first time the lady knight saw a pleased smile cross the other woman's lips.

* * *

Deep in the bowels of the Order base, the bald headed mage reached the chamber where the Lady Meridia's likeness was stored. He was not happy about reporting back to the powerful Daedra. Although she was far kinder than most of her brethren, even Meridia's patience had its limits, and he was worried about how she might react to the discovery that – once again – their 'prize' had escaped.

That was why he'd waited so long to report on the mission's progress. He'd been hoping that his remaining agents might be able to recapture Integra, But alas, such hope had proved folly, and he knew he could put off his report no longer. So, with a heavy sigh, the bald mage stretched out his hand, commanding the door before him to open and entered the chamber.

"Yes, Mathusalis, what have you to report?" Meridia's voice protruded from the fifteen foot statue's location. "How goes the mission?"

"Not well, your grace. The English woman has escaped."

"Of course she has," a third voice chimed in, taking the mage by surprise. "You should have known that you couldn't keep a lass like her chained for long. And I hear that her and her soldier made quite an... 'impact' as they left – blew up a good fifth of your fortress... and using your own stockpiled explosives to boot. How mad. Haha! I just love it."

"Who do you think you..." The mage's words died in his throat as he turned to face the 'man' who had appeared behind him and noticed this intruder's colorful, regal garb, golden beard and yellow, cat like eyes. "S-Sheogorath. Wh-what brings you here?"

"Teleportation, naturally."

"That wasn't what he meant, and you know it," the statue replied.

"Ah, the Lady Meridia," Sheogorath responded as he strolled up to the statue. "It's been too long. Tell me, what's a nice Daedra like you doing in a place like this?" he asked before levitating up and wrapping his lips around the cold, hard ones of the statue. "Ah, warm-blooded and passionate as always," he commented sarcastically after ending the kiss.

"And you're just as insane as your predecessor, oh Mad One," was Meridia's sardonic reply.

"That maybe, Lass. But this is still _my _realm... and I don't recall you asking permission to interfere in it."

"Funny, and here I thought you'd be grateful for my assistance. After all, it's not my land the King of Worms is seeking to subvert."

"True, but should he succeed in dethroning me, I doubt it would be very long before he turned the full power of my realm against yours, what with that intolerant attitude you have towards the undead."

"Then it would be in both our interests to stop this vindictive lord of the dead before he seizes your throne."

"That it would, Lass. That it would," Sheogorath agreed and then turned back towards the Mathusalis. "And with that in mind, I'm going to tell you where you'll find the ones you're searching for. They're hold up in an old church at the city's edge – the Church of Saint George."

"I... Thank you, Sh-" the bald mage began but was soon interrupted.

"You will go meet these people yourself, and you are to take no more than one other with you."

"What?! Why?!"

"Because if you do anything else, I'll lock you in a room with no doors or windows and have Haskill read you the Twilight books over and over again until your brain turns to mush and seeps out your ears. Hmmm -- brain mush – tasty," the Daedric Prince of Madness responded in a jovial tone, but then his eyes narrowed to yellow slits and his face pulled into a serious expression, an expression which made the mage's blood run cold. "Or I may just rip out your intestines and skip rope with them. Depends on my mood." No sooner had these words exited Sheogorath's mouth than his previously 'manic' attitude returned.

"Actually, that does sound like fun. I wonder if such a thing could turn a profit," he mused aloud. "Haskill," the Daedric prince called, summoning his chamberlain.

"Yes, my lord," the funny looking Breton replied in an unemotional monotone, which -- if it carried any subtext at all – only conveyed a dry, subtle annoyance.

"I just had a thought. Assemble a focus group, and see if there's a market for intestinal jump ropes."

"Yes, Sir. Would that be real intestines or fabricated, toy ones?"

"Hmmm, I don't know. Test them both and see which one the kiddies like more."

Mathusalis just stood where he was, mouth slightly agape, as he stared at the 'Mad Prince' and his chamberlain in fascinated, disbelief.

"Very good, sir," Haskill droned in his ever-present monotone. "Will that be all?"

"What? Oh, yes. You may go now," Sheogorath replied with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Thank you, my lord," Haskill responded and made a slight bow before disappearing from sight.

"Now where was I? Oh yes," Sheogorath mused and then turned back to the bald mage. "You will go, and you may bring one other with you. And, well, I guess that's all."

"Now, if you'll excuse me," Sheogorath continued as he turned to face the statue once more, "Lady Meridia, I've gotta be getting back to my princely duties. Got a war to plan for and what not, you know." And with that the Daedric Prince of Madness vanished back into the nothingness from which he'd come.

"Ma lady, do you... can you trust someone that insane?" the bald mage asked once he felt assured that Sheogorath had indeed left.

"I trust him," Meridia replied simply. "I trust him to make a marvelous mess of things and, perhaps, in the confusion created, provide me with an opportunity I might never get otherwise," she elaborated. "In short, I trust Sheogorath to be what he is – the Daedric Prince of Madness."

"So... we should follow his instructions?"

"Yes... for now."

* * *

*Mathew 21:13 (partial)

*Mathew 12:3-4 (partial)

Well, hope you all enjoyed. The next chapter will cover the meeting between the Hellsing crew and the Order representatives and give a little more background on what's going on. Depending on how long that takes me, there may also be a little more AxS. If not, that scene will come in the following chapter.

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid.

PS. Congrats to Lion in the Land for publishing her first novel, Three Daves! I'm currently reading it, and it's a lot of fun – a _witty_, _comical_, _romantic_-type trek through the strange and mysterious land of eighties' collage culture. To anyone else interested in checking out the book, links to more information can be found on Lion in the Land's FF author's profile page.


	17. Chapter 17: Challenging Preconceptions

**Challenging Preconceptions**

**AN: **This chapter is a little shorter than usual. Sorry, but the new Dragon Age expansion came out this week, and it really ate into my free time. Next update should be back to normal length.

* * *

Seras sat upon the church steps, silently watching the sunrise. Her master had already retired to his coffin, but Seras had two reasons she was still up. The first reason was that her coffin like bed was still back at what was left of Hellsing manor, and after what her master had pulled last time, she wasn't exactly eager to share his again. The other reason was that, since childhood, she'd always been fond of sunrises, the first light of dawn casting away the darkness of night as it tinged the sky with patterns of red and gold. She found a symbolism in that, and somehow the rising sun had always seemed to encourage her and help lighten her mood.

"I'm surprised you're not resting," a voice calmly commented from somewhere behind Seras, and she turned to find that Michael was standing on the Church stoop, leaning against the stone structure.

"I wanted to watch the sunrise," the girl replied with a slight shrug.

"You really aren't like other vampires, are you." he said in an odd sort of tone.

"And you're not like other soldiers, are you." she shot back.

"Thanks, I'll take that as a compliment," the sniper replied, though the vampire's tone had indicated that her statement was anything but. "Because, if I were, your master's master would not be alive right now."

"And you expect me to believe that was the only motivation behind your actions?"

Now it was Michael's turn to shrug. "Believe what you will. But that is what Alucard believes; ask him about it if you don't trust me."

A puzzled expression came over Seras's face. She knew that her master had better insight into such things and was far less tolerant of betrayal than she. If Michael was listing the vampire that nearly killed him when they'd been reunited as a character reference, then either he was a complete idiot... or he had had ample justification for his 'betrayal' back at the mansion. And though Seras could think up several apropos ways to describe the sniper, 'idiotic' wasn't one of them.

"Mind if I sit down?" Michael asked, and though Seras didn't grant her permission, she didn't deny it either. So, he sat down beside her and for a moment, they both just stared quietly at the rising sun.

"Speaking of your master," Michael began after a couple of minutes had passed, his voice once more disrupting the serene silence, "I should probably warn you that he has plans for you."

"What... What sort of plans?" Seras asked in a curious tone.

"Hard to know for sure with him. But from the things he said, I'd guess anything from turning you into a private plaything... to making you his No-Life Queen," Michael answered and was surprised when he turned to find a slight blush upon Seras's cheeks. Vampires were not known for blushing; most, he guessed, didn't even have the ability to anymore.

"Y-you really think Master might want me for his queen?"

"His queen," Michael replied and paused to emphasize his next words, "or his private plaything. If I were you, I'd be worried about that latter possibility. Your master is a very complex individual, as capable of cruelty as he is kindness. And, from what I understand about vampiric relationships and bonds, as his fledgling, there's not really much you could do if he decided to... uh, 'press his advantage'."

"You don't think my master would really do something like that... do you?"

"As I said, with him, it's hard to know."

For a while the two were silent once more as Seras considered Michael's words. She had a hard time imagining her master doing anything like what Michael was warning her about. But then she'd slept next to him twice and one time she'd woken up to find his fangs in her neck. And her master's follow up comments hadn't exactly been reassuring. _'You belong to me,'_ she remembered him saying by way of justification for drinking her blood without permission.

Then again, he'd offered her a choice in becoming a vampire when they'd first met. He'd offered her his blood as well, offering her freedom from her status as his fledgling. And he had promised not to lay claim to her 'virtue', though it was disconcerting that he seemed to think his status as her master gave him a claim to that to begin with.

Seras simply didn't know what to think. She believed that her master would stick to his word. But there was a difference between believing something and knowing it for sure. And given what was at stake, could she really afford to take the chance that her belief was wrong?

"What do you think I should do?" she finally asked.

"Find a way to get a hold of some of his blood. If you drink his blood, you'll no longer be his fledgling. Instead you'll be a full fledged vampire yourself. Then, if he desires something other than what you want,you can approach him as an equal and refuse. Subservience to a psychotic is dangerous," Michael replied, obviously unaware of the fact that Seras already had an open invitation to drink her master's blood. Then, apparently thinking that his work here was done, the sniper got up and began to leave.

"Wait," Seras called from the steps, causing Michael to turn back towards her. "Why did you bother warning me about this? You always seem to have an angle; what's in it for you?"

At first the sniper looked thoughtful, as if he were contemplating whether or not to answer the vampire's question. Then he sighed. His shoulders slumped, and his head tilted down a couple of degrees. "There..." he began, "Even as a vampire, there is an innocence about you that is rare to find in this day and age. Rarity adds value to things. And it is a waste when something of value is destroyed without cause."

"So... you really don't have an angle?"

"Other than trying to help preserve something valuable, no."

"I," Seras began, intending to apologize for her earlier accusation. But then the apology died in her throat. "Thank you... Michael," she said instead.

The sniper grinned. "No a problem, Officer Victoria."

"Seras," she corrected.

And Michael smiled. "Seras."

* * *

Integra yawned and stretched out her arms. It had been a long night, and the next one would be no better. Now that the sun was up, she was planning on heading off to bed and trying to get a decent amount of sleep before her and her followers needed to start preparing for their nighttime assault on the Order's main base.

What she was not expecting was for the church's front doors to be suddenly thrown open and for two robed figures to step in. The robes were colorful, decorative even. One of the men had hands which glowed with unearthly flame, while the hands of the other were charged with electricity. And Integra knew that these were no priests. No, these were mages... and, in all likelihood, Order members.

In an instant, the lady knight's fatigue vanished as she quickly unsheathed her sword and prepared herself for combat. A blast of flame hit her breastplate and sent her flying back into one of the pews, cracking the wooden bench in the process. But the armor she'd confiscated from the Order armory held; and though she was phased a little by the impact, Integra remained unharmed by the attack.

What's more the sound of the confrontation seemed to have served as a call to arms for her followers. Humans, vampires and undead beasts pored from the front of the auditorium; and by the time Integra rose to her feet, most of her followers were already taking aim at the two intruders and Baskerville had run to within lunging distance of the two intruders.

With blazing red eyes and a foaming mouth, the great beast leapt at the mages who had dared to attack his master. Michael and Seras let loose their long range projectiles – Michael taking aim directly at one of the mages' hearts and Seras firing past them, at the support beam which ran above the open, entrance-way doors. She judged that by hitting that target, she could catch the mages in the blow back created by her shell's explosion but still keep Integra out of the blast radius. Keith ran towards the two, trying to close to effective shotgun range. And Alucard, having been awakened by the threat to his master's life, was already out of the hearse his coffin still rested in and coming up behind the mages, effectively cutting off their only escape route.

Yes, no matter how you sliced it, it looked as though the two order members would be dead in less time than it took to blink. However, before the two could meet their demise a very strange thing happened. Time stopped, or at least all the motions that it allowed ground the a screeching halt. Everyone could still see, hear and think. However no-one could move a muscle, and the projectiles hung suspended in the air just as the living creatures, like sculptures, were locked in whatever position they'd been in when this 'time freeze' occurred.

Then a sound broke through the unnatural stillness, a commanding voice calling, "Hold!" And suddenly there was a single being moving in the center of the battlefield the combatants were about to create. "Tsk, tsk," he chided as he examined the scene.

"You've all been naughty, naughty mice – trying to kill each other... while _I_ still have need of your organizations. No cheese for you!"

And then the 'man' stretched out one arm, the staff in it disappearing and being replaced by a different one. He pointed at Michael's sniper round and it changed from a thing of metal into a small insect (a fly, to be precise). Then the man did the same thing to Seras's discharged shell, morphing it into a small mouse. Finally, he walked up to Baskerville and rotated the leaping animal so that it was facing in a different direction.

"Now, before you all kill each other, we need to discuss some things." And with that, the time freeze thawed and everyone could move once more. No one attacked, however, preferring to wait until they knew what this new player was getting at.

"Things? Such as?" the younger mage inquired.

"And just who the bloody hell do you think you are?!" Integra demanded.

"My, my, you are a real spitfire, aren't you." The interloper laughed. "My name's Sheogorath, and I'm the one who told them where to find you."

Integra's eyes narrowed. "Why?!" she growled.

"Because, unless we all work together, I'm afraid that this world – _my realm_ – is doomed."

"What do you mean this world is _your_ realm?" Debra questioned as her and Thomas entered the main area of their church. "The Lord made this world, and He bequeathed it to _us_."

"Such a plucky, little creature," Sheogorath responded. "But, I'm afraid you're mistaken. The Creator did indeed present Earth to you humans, however, you're not on Earth. In fact, you've never even been there. No, you were born here – in my plane of Oblivion, which I have modeled after Earth. Everything you see here – every rock, tree and mountain and ocean – is actually a reproduction of your specie's home world. I created it and have been sneaking special human's over here for centuries."

* * *

Okay, the next chapter will pick up where this one left off, with Sheogorath explaining his last statement, as well as why the world is doomed unless they all work together. Once again, sorry about the length. But I've been playing a lot of Dragon Age this week, and now I've just found out that I need to make an emergency trip (or at the very least an unexplained, unplanned trip) out of sate tomorrow. So, I've simply run out of time, and can't add anything more o this right now. I hope you still enjoyed it though.

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid.

To Tsuki: I'm glad that you've been having such fun with this story so far and that you like the way I've been handling Alucard, Seras and Integra – the first two putting "silly grins" on your face and the my characterization of the last being "dead on". :) I hope you continue to enjoy this. Oh, and thanks for pointing out that "thrown" "throne" mistake! I went back and fixed it. ;)

To Lara: Thanks for another review. I'm very pleased that you're enjoying my writing style so much. Sorry about not getting to that AxS scene this chapter. Next chapter for sure. ;)


	18. Chapter 18: Mad World

**Mad World**

**AN: **Sorry about missing my target update date last weekend. I had a surprise visit from some family and couldn't exactly just leave them to write fan fiction. :P So, sorry about missing that update. But, to help make up for that, I've got a nice, long one for you this time. ;)

* * *

Most of the people in the room stared at the Daedra is if he'd sprouted a second head... or, perhaps more appropriately, lost his original. However, Alison – who'd already discovered that she was technically not a person herself, (but rather a piece of someone else's soul that had been torn from them and given form) – did not try to dismiss the funny looking man's statement or rationalize it away. Instead, she seemed merely curious about it. "Why?"

"Because, as the Daedric Prince of Madness... I just love humans! Such marvelous creatures, really. So delightfully mad! In fact I use to be one, myself – a _long_ time ago."

"You... use to be a human?" the younger of the two mages asked in a surprised, confused tone. "Then how did-"

"It's a long story, and one not relevant to our current situation!" Sheogorath snapped angrily, his response accentuated by a flash of lightning and a crash of thunder outside one of the church's windows.

"What is important," the Prince of Madness then continued, his voice returning to it's usual jovially psychotic tone, "is that before becoming a Daedra, I was a man; and as a man, a mage to be precise, I once slew a powerful necromancer. He called himself the King of Worms, and was the most powerful Necromancer to ever live. With a mere wave of his hand, he could call forth the bodies of the dead and, with but a look, turn any living person into a zombie thrall."

Alucard huffed in disbelief. "If he was that powerful, how did you slay him?"

"Well, Vladie... I had a lot of help. But, I was the one to strike the final blow, and I'm also the only one who was there who yet lives."

"Well, bully for you. You killed yourself a powerful necromancer, good triumphed over evil and you eventually became... whatever you are now. Sounds like a happy ending to me; so why bring this up now?" Integra sardonically commented.

And for a moment, Sheogorath just flashed the lady knight a strange sort of grin. "Because, Lass, the King of Worms seems to have found his way back to the land of the living. And even now, he searches for a way to enter my realm... UNINVITED! Such a grievous breach of decorum!

"It is revenge he seeks, to end me and my rule... as I did him so many thousands of years ago. And should he succeed in destroying me and seizing my throne, this dimension that all of you know as home will fall into a period of darkness the likes of which you cannot even begin to fathom."

"Wait a minute," Keith interjected, "can we, please, revisit this whole 'your realm' thing?"

Sheogorath sighed, but consented. "Oh, very well. All the Daedric Princes have their own realms of Oblivion which they rule over. You could think of this realm like its own dimension... though it's really more like the 'delusional' reality which exists in a mad man's mind. It is a fantasy world which mirrors and is tied to the Daedric Prince's thoughts and emotions and he may reshape it whenever and however he chooses.

"This is my realm, and a thousand or so years ago I got tired of the decor and decided it was time for a change. So, I cracked open the decorating books and took a look at what was going on in the other realms of reality. And I just fell in love with yours! … Or rather that of your ancestors. I think it was the Crusades that really won me over."

"The Crusades?"

"Yes, those who claimed to be servants of a loving, benevolent God, choosing to spread His doctrine of love and tolerance by waging bloody, savage war on those who held different beliefs – such _wonderful_ madness! I just had to have a scheme like that! So, I reshaped my reality to mimic that of your ancestors', slowly updating it to remain fashionable of course.

"Alas, without genuine humans from your ancestors' reality... Well, my new home just seemed to be missing something. So, I began the process of screening through what your world had to offer, picking out the absolute maddest individuals, and subtly bringing them over to my realm. Haven't you ever questioned why just about everyone you know is considerably madder than what reports would lead you to believe is the norm? Why, just look at Vladie here... or the Iscariots. I've spent a millennium choosing just the right individuals – the most deranged, insane, disturbed... and otherwise emotionally unbalanced that humanity has to offer – to go along with my home's new look."

Debra's eyes narrowed and she went to take a step forward, but Thomas's hand on her shoulder halted the nun's advance. "Attacking him would only help to prove his point," he whispered and she stopped, her eyes returning to normal. The nun looked back at the tall priest, a somewhat sheepish expression on her face.

"Wait," Seras cut in, "let me see if I've got this straight. You're saying that all seven billion people on this planet are crazy?"

"Well, all humans are a little crazy to begin with. Sadly, however, a lot of you are decedents of those whom I originally brought over... and a lot less interesting than your parents, grandparents, excreta. That's the main reason I have to keep bringing more of you over. Oh, and this world has a lot less actual people than you think. Many of those you pass by are nothing more than soulless constructs designed to keep up appearances for my new acquisitions. There are really only a couple hundred million humans in this reality.

"Now, if I've suitably satisfied your curiosities, might we be getting back to the matter at hand? Yes? Good. Now on to our current pickle... Hmmm, pickles. Erhm, no time for that now."

Sheogorath cleared his throat. "Um, where was I? Oh, yes... For the past month, the King of Worms' forces have probed the boundaries of my realm, searching for a way to enter it. And a few days ago, they discovered a portal which my predecessor created and I have been unable to seal, an ancient and deadly maze, Xedilian. It now rests on a small island in the Atlantic, an area you may know as The Devils Triangle.

"The place is a relic, but a fine example of olden days engineering none-the-less. Navigating it will take sometime, especially since most of the King of Worms' followers are mindless drones. But, it will not keep them confounded forever. That's why I need you, your organizations... both of them. I need you to hold the Worms' forces at bay, just a wee bit longer. I have soldiers of my own, but I just can't remember where I left 'em."

"You..." Integra began in a shocked, almost disbelieving tone. "You forgot where you left your soldiers?"

"Oh, and I suppose you've never lost anything? Remember where you left every possession you've ever had – every toy, every doll, every birthday present – do you?"

"Well, no. But I'd never forget something as important as where my men were stationed."

"Ehk, I haven't had a use for my soldiers since I redecorated. They got packed up in a box and shoved into the back of a closet somewhere. I haven't seen them in nearly a thousand years," the Mad Prince explained. "But I know I didn't throw them out; they're still here... _somewhere_. And if I find them, I can beat that King of Worms and his followers. You just have to hold them up for a little bit longer; 'cause if ya don't we're all doomed."

"It sounds like either we're going to work together... or perish together," Mathusalis commented and extended his hand towards Integra. "Truce?"

She just glared at him. A truce? After all they'd done? Better to just kill them and take her chances. After all, it wasn't like she'd ever run up against a foe her organization couldn't defeat before. And this time, they didn't even have to defeat the enemy, just hold them off until that idiot with the beard figured out what he did with his army.

_'Master,' _Alucard's voice suddenly invaded Integra's mind. _'You should accept the offer.'_

_'Excuse me?'_

_'Master, have you ever wondered how I became a vampire? I believe you are aware that I was never bitten by another, and I wasn't even a virgin at the time of my 'death'. It's because I found a book, an old, ancient tome, in a forgotten laboratory, all but lost beneath the shifting desert sands. It was written by a woman named Relmyna Verenim, and documented research she'd undertaken – experiments of life, death and reanimation. It was only because of what I learned from those writings that I was able to turn myself into a vampire.'_

_'That's... interesting, Alucard. But what does-'_

_'In the tome, Relmyna once mentioned that her own research was based on some early writings she found by the young mage who later became know as the King of Worms.'_

_'What? So, what you're saying is that even if I were to lift all of your restrictions-'_

_'Yes, Master, even if you found a way to put me back together and restored complete use of all my powers, I might not be able to defeat THIS enemy.'_

Integra clenched her jaw, her lips pursing slightly. She scowled, but shook the mage's offered hand. "Truce" If this King of Worms was truly more powerful than her 'trump card', she would need allies. Even still, there was the matter of the Order's attack on her mansion.

"Good, both of you gather your forces and head for the Devil's Triangle. Xedilian should hold the bandies off for another twenty-four hours or so, but I doubt it'll last much longer than that," Sheogorath cut in.

Integra nodded, and then, locking eyes with Mathusalis, she growled, "Now, allow us to escort you _out._" She motioned to the Church's main doors, her demeanor indicating that her last words were _not_ a suggestion.

The older mage bowed his bald head and started towards the doors, Integra by his side the whole time. The younger mage fell in step behind. And the rest of the Hellsing crew, save Alison, encircled him, trailing behind their own master.

Sheogorath's lips pulled into a little grin. "Well, guess that takes care of that," he mused aloud. "Now... back to rummaging through those closets."

"So, you seemed pretty secure in proposing that truce; are you the one in charge of the Order?" Integra asked as the group exited the church and began walking down the stone steps of its stoop.

"Yes," Mathusalis answered.

"Then you're also the one who sent those soldiers to attack my home?"

"At the time, it seemed necessary. We were aware of the King of Worm's zombie enthrallment spell, and I knew that only someone who was already dead would be immune to its effects. We needed a vampire, the more powerful the better. And you have the most powerful one on the planet," the bald-headed mage excused.

Integra nodded. "That's all I wanted to know." They were at the base of the steps now, on the city sidewalk, officially off the church's property; and Integra's hand went to her sword. Her movement fast and fluid, like quicksilver, the lady knight drew her blade and, continuing that same motion, drove the but of its handle into the bald mage's stomach... hard.

Stunned, he gasped and doubled over as the wind was knocked out of him, and Integra raised her weapon high above her. "Blood is on your hands. My men died in that attack," she stated her words projecting an authority that the highest judges of the land would've envied. And then, remembering a line from Charlton Heston's The Ten Commandments, Integra passed judgment on the accused. "Death will bring death."

And with that, the blade came down – like an executioner's ax. Combined with the force of Integra's blow, the sword's sharpened edge effortlessly sliced through skin and cleaved bone in-two. In an instant, life passed to death as Mathusalis' bald head rolled into the street, the blade's enchantment leaving lingering flames where it had once joined the neck. And the flames, spreading almost as if alive, quickly consumed both the severed head and the body, leaving nothing but ash in their wake.

The younger mage stood silently for a moment, his mouth agape and eyes wide in shocked horror. Then flames sprouted from the palms of his hands as rage filled his heart. "We had a truce!" he vehemently protested.

"And we still do," Integra replied, turning to face the young man. "Unless you provoke us, there will be no further hostilities between your Order and my organization, but if you thought I was going to forget about the deaths of my men, you were sadly mistaken. A reckoning needed to be made... and it has. Now, run back to your base and tell the others of our deal, prepare them to help us hold off the King of Worms and his horde of the dead. Or, attack me, if you choose, and dissolve our arrangement."

"I wouldn't, if I were you," a low, velvety voice growled menacingly from somewhere to the remaining mage's left and he gulped involuntarily as he became aware of not just Alucard's pistols pointed at his heart, but also Micheal's sniper rifle sighting in between his eyes. The muzzle of Keith's shotgun was pressed into his ribs as well, and behind him Seras's left arm dissolved into shadows and reformed into a curved blade – its surface dark as a night with neither moon nor stars.

With a sigh, the young mage lowered his head, and the flames within his hands flickered and died out. He knew it would be suicide to attack the long-haired blonde before him. He would've been lucky to get one fireball off before her followers turned his body into raw hamburg.

Besides, even if he could kill the lady knight, what would that accomplish? Both organizations would just be at each other's throats once more; and if they didn't work together, they were all doomed once the King of Worms took power. No, there was nothing to be gained by continuing the confrontation. Someone had to back down; and given the current imbalance of power, it only made sense for that someone to be him. "Alright, you win. Your men are avenged, and you'll have your allies for the upcoming battle," he acquiesced. "Now," he then continued through grit teeth, "if you'll excuse me. I have to go explain to a five year old why her father's ashes are being scattered by the four winds."

Integra's eyes widened almost imperceptibly at the revelation that the man she'd just beheaded had a child. But other than that she maintained her stony expression as the remaining mage passed by her and headed down the road. Then, without a word to anyone, she reentered the church and made her way to the back room that was her temporary quarters.

* * *

Seras was currently searching for her master. After the things Michael had said to her that morning, she felt like she needed to talk to him, to find out where she really stood with him. Unfortunately, he'd disappeared shortly after his own master had retired to the room provided her.

Alucard hadn't even said anything. One moment he'd been standing behind her; and then, as she turned to him, he was simply... gone. Seras supposed it wouldn't be fair to expect her master to check in with her before going... wherever he went when he disappeared, but she knew that he could always find her without a problem, and that imbalance irked her.

It existed, of course, because he'd drunk from her, and she'd never done the same to him. He possessed a small splinter of her soul and could use that as a connection to her, to find her, read her emotions... keep tabs on her. And she could do none of that to him. And yet... this imbalance existed solely by her choice. He'd offered her his own blood – a level playing field – and she'd refused.

More and more the fledgling was starting to question that decision. Why had she refused? Was it due to her normal issues with blood sucking? Or was it because she liked the security their current relationship offered?

She was his fledgling, and he was her master. She didn't have to concern herself with making her own decisions, didn't have to confront what it was _she_ really wanted. She had the comfort of simply following orders, which alleviated her of all personal responsibility. Was that why she'd refused, because it was just easier to follow another than to think for one's self?

Seras hoped that was not the reason. As a teenager and a young cop, she'd always prided herself on her independence. And yet, that independence had been forced on her at an early age, with the death of her parents. She'd never chosen it, never chosen to rebel, to go out and face the world on her own.

Was that why she'd remained Alucard's fledgling? Was she tired of being on her own, tired of being alone? Such an idea seemed silly when she thought about it. Fledgling or not, she could remain with Hellsing. She didn't have to leave, didn't have to be on her own again. So why did she still refuse her master's offer?

Seras was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she wasn't paying close attention to where she was going, and soon her legs collided with a solid, though somewhat soft, object. She tumbled, head over heels, as she tripped, and it was only due to her vampiric reflexes that Seras was able to thrust out her arms and push off of the floor in time to turn her fall into a forward flip.

"Huh, guess I'm getting better at this whole vampire thing," Seras commented as she realized what she'd just done. And then she turned to look back and discover what exactly she'd tripped over.

It was Baskerville, and the un-dead beast seemed just as surprised at Seras's reaction as she was. He stared at her, head cocked slightly to the right. "Didn't think I'd be able to pull that off, did ya?" Seras chirped at the monstrous mongrel. And Baskerville let out a happy sounding double bark in reply.

Seras smiled, and then a thought came to her. "Hey, maybe you can help me. I'm looking for Master Alucard. Do you know where he is?"

The Hell-hound eyed the girl strangely for a moment, almost as if considering his reply, then nodded his head. He walked by Seras, then looked back at her and craned his neck in a 'follow me' like motion. She did, and he soon led her to a descending staircase at the bottom of which rested a large wooden door. Baskerville pointed at the door with his nose and raised one par, shifting into the pose a normal hound might've used to indicate the location of a fox or rabbit.

"He's in there then?"

The devil dog nodded.

"Okay, then, thanks for your help," Seras responded and then stopped to pet the great, dark, beast before continuing on towards her master.

The door squeaked as it opened, and Seras poked her head inside. "Master?"

"Yes, Police Girl," a low voice rumbled from somewhere in the shadows.

"We need to talk."

"Well, then, you'd better come in, hadn't you."

Seras nodded and entered the room, which she soon found was caked with dust and filled with coffins. How did her master always manage to find the creepiest rooms, wherever he went?

"Good. Now, what do you want to talk about?"

"Master, why... I mean... Well, that is to say..." Seras began again and again but seemed unable to finish her sentences.

"Police Girl?"

"Yes?"

"You're trying my patience."

"Sorry, Master. I just... Why did you decide to turn me?"

"'Death is not the sign of weakness, nor bodily constitution the sign of strength. It is what happens to a soul when brought into that fire which determines the mettle of men. Those with inner strength are forged into weapons of devastating keenness by pain's fire. Those who are undeserving and weak turn to dark and lifeless ash in its heat.' That was written in the book I found when I was still a man, the tome which taught me how to overcome death and transform myself into a vampire. On the day we met I saw that you had endured that fire with a resolve, as strength of spirit and will, which, in all the centuries that I have walked the surface of this world, I've only found in a handful of individuals. You deserved better than death... better than the life you were living. The potential was there, and you deserved to become what you were always _meant_ to be."

"So... that's it? You just wanted to help me... um, 'fulfill my potential'? You have no other... er, 'intentions' regarding me."

Alucard grinned widely, his expression almost predatory, as his eyes roamed up and down Seras's body. "Hmmmm, I don't recall ever claiming that," he replied coyly. "You asked why I turned you, not what I desire to do to you now."

Seras gulped. "A-and that is?"

Alucard's eyes flashed and he chuckled from somewhere in the back of his throat.

"Master, stop toying with me!" Seras exclaimed, surprising both of them with her boldness. "I... What is it you really want from me?"

Fore a moment Alucard was silent. He seemed to be considering his answer. "As much as I can get," he replied a half-minute later.

"Huh?"

"Your blood; your body; your passion – I _want_ as much as you're willing to give me... but I'll _take_ nothing beyond your blood. And, to be fair, I'll offer to match whatever you give me."

Seras was a little taken back by her master's brazen reply. He was usually far more cryptic with her. Was he responding so openly because of the shift in her own attitude – practically demanding an honest answer from him as she had? Or was he acting like this because, for the first time since she'd known him, he truly doubted the outcome of a battle and wanted to clear the air before he faced his possible death?

"What about my lo-" Seras began but the word fell dead in her throat. "My life? … Or unlife... Or whatever you'd call this?"

Alucard turned away and remained silent. It was obvious he knew what his fledgling meant, and he was either unready or on willing to give her an answer.

She waited, and still, he remained silent. For over a minute neither moved or spoke. Then finally Seras sighed as she realized that the question of spending a life together was one question she was not going to get him to answer, at least not yet. "Master, I... You offered me your blood; that offer is still open, right?"

At this Alucard turned back to his fledgling. "Of course, Police Girl. You merely need to come and take it," he replied smugly.

And slowly Seras approached her master. He wrapped his arms around her as he leaned down, presenting his neck to her. Seras gulped, and then slowly, her lips parted, and she pressed them to her master's cold skin. She felt her fangs grow as she sensed his blood flowing just beneath that thin layer of ivory. But, still she wasn't biting down.

"Come, on Police Girl, what are you waiting for?" he coaxed, and then felt his fledgling's fangs graze his neck before slowly piercing his skin.

Alucard's blood trickled out from the small puncture wounds, dripping unto Seras's waiting, trembling tongue, and she was surprised by both the taste and texture of it. His blood was thick, like molasses, and strong, like brandy, and not at all unpleasant. She wanted more. And so, without conscious thought, Seras began to suck.

The sensation was unquestioningly pleasing to Alucard, who involuntarily moaned her name. "Seras."

Both surprised and pleased at hearing not just the need in Alucard's voice, but also the fact that he'd called her by her name, Seras's jaw clamped down, and Alucard's blood began to flow quickly into her. It brought with it freedom from her status as his fledgling, fragmented memories that she couldn't piece together and a sense of his current emotions. In essence it simultaneously elevated her to equal status and drew them closer together – both figuratively and literally.

Seras pressed her body into Alucard's, her chest constricting against his as their forms melded together. Alucard inhaled deeply, though as a vampire, his sole reason for doing so was to flood his olfactory sense with Seras's scent. Then he leaned his face in and latched unto her right ear with his teeth, lightly rolling it as she returned his earlier moan of pleasure.

Seras could feel his want, his hunger, both through the blood pouring into her and the bulge pressing against the base of her stomach. Firmly gripping his long, red coat in her hands, she quickly lifted up her legs and wrapped them around his waist.

Alucard growled out his approval and then spun them around and wedged her in between his body and the cold, stone wall. Then, he tilted his head downwards, his teeth trailing from her ear to the base of her neck, and sunk his fangs into her flesh as well.

The blood flowed freely between the two of them: from him, into her; from her, back into him – the cycle repeating itself over and over again as each shared in the other's pleasure and was tangibly aware of their desires. Neither one thought about what they were doing anymore, rational reasoning having long since given way to savage instinct and base needs. They ground their bodies together, moaning and panting and drinking in each other's very life force. And it appeared as if all boundaries between the two vampires would soon be washed away.

However, as per Murphy's law, Sister Debra happened to enter the catacombs just as Alucard began to telekinetically pop the buttons off of Seras' jacket. "What the Hell do you two think you're doing?" the small nun screamed, drawing the vampires back to reality.

They pulled apart. Seras made the first move, untangling her legs from Alucard's waist, as the latter seemed perfectly content to continue, despite their audience. He soon followed suit, however, acquiescing to his partner's decision to stop.

"We... Ah... I was just... Um..." While Seras stuttered and blushed uncontrollably under the chaste nun's glare, Alucard simply chuckled lewdly and stepped through the wall – vanishing from sight. And Seras decided that that disappearing trick of his was going to be the next one he taught her.

* * *

Well, thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed the new chapter. Long enough to make up for missing last week's update? :P LoL Please drop me a review and let me know what you thought of it. Thanks. ;)

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid.


	19. Chapter 19: Last Day in Istanbul

**Last Day in Istanbul**

**AN: **This chapter is mostly transitional stuff to prepare for the last act of the story. But I've tried to still make it enjoyable. Hope you all like.

* * *

Michael stepped out of the confessional to find Alucard standing outside, almost as if the monster had been waiting for him. "Repenting of your sins before facing the upcoming battle? You intending to die, Belmont?"

"Wasn't planning on it... but I like to have all my bases covered. Besides, I was getting a little tired of Debra hounding me about it. Why are you here? Somehow I doubt you're looking to confess your sins."

"Indeed. That wrinkled, old priest would die before I was half-way through the list." Alucard chuckled. "No, I have come to talk to you."

"What about?" Michael asked cautiously.

"You 'warned' Seras about me."

"I... s-she told you that?" the sniper asked cautiously.

"Her blood told me that," the monster replied.

"H-her blood?" Michael responded, wondering just what had happened between the two vampires.

"Yes, it is a unique experience, vampiric blood-bonding, one unlike anything you will ever know. The voluntary sharing of each vampire's life force sates desires quite foreign to your kind and creates a temporary closeness far more powerful than any human interaction. ... And it's also _very_ pleasurable."

"Wait, voluntary sharing of _each_ vampire's life force? So, then Seras has drunk your blood?" Michael asked.

"She is my fledgling no longer," Alucard answered. "And for that... for that I owe you."

"Owe me?" Michael responded in a bewildered tone.

"Yes, I've been trying to move Seras past the fledgling stage for nearly a year now, but she's refused to accept my offer."

"Wait? You actually wanted her to drink your blood?!"

Alucard let out a laugh before replying, "Silly human, of course I did. From our first meeting, I saw the potential in her, the exceedingly rare potential to become a true master of the night. And I determined then and there to help her realize this potential."

"Uhha, and I'm sure the way she looks had nothing at all to do with your decision to turn her into your fledgling."

Alucard's lips pulled into a sly grin, but other than that, he ignored the sniper's sarcastic statement. "Unfortunately, she developed some bizarre form of arrested development, and refused to progress beyond the fledgling stage. _You_ helped her push past that, and for that, I owe you."

"Okay," Michael replied, still not quite sure what the monster before him had in mind for repayment but reasonably certain that it wasn't going to end with his drained body lying discarded on the Church floor. "Owe me what?"

"A warning. The upcoming battle will be unlike anything you've seen before, anything my master's organization has ever faced. And that means that both my master's and Seras's lives will be in great danger. I can not afford to watch out for you too."

Michael let out a sarcastic chuckle before he'd even realized what he was doing. "As if you've ever watched out for me before." The sniper immediately regretted this outburst, for he saw the monster's eyes narrow dangerously.

A few awkward seconds passed between the two, as Alucard's expression slowly returned to normal. "I watch out for anyone I see potential in," the vampire master replied, his voice sounding a little more tense than was normal, "whether they know – or appreciate – it or not. I just don't coddle them. It is only through facing adversity that we grow," he explained.

"However," Alucard then continued before Michael had a chance to respond. "A choice between your life and that of my master or Seras is no choice at all. You're going to be on your own this time." The vampire paused briefly and let his words sink in. "If you truly are planning on surviving this encounter you'd be wise to make use of a certain family heirloom."

The color drained from Michael's face and for just a moment he looked nearly as pale as the monster standing before him. "H-How do you know of that?"

"Do you think me an idiot?" Alucard replied in a slightly offended tone. "Belmont isn't exactly a common name. Or did you think that over the last hundred years I'd forgotten about my... 'dealings' with your family."

"No... I just... Well, you never mentioned it before. Why now?"

"As I said I owed you a favor. Consider that debt repaid." And with that the ancient vampire turned and walked away.

* * *

While Alucard was repaying his debt to Michael, Father Thomas was was balancing the church's budget in his office. He'd left the door to said office open, as he usually did, and it wasn't long before Sister Debra came to see him about something. Glancing up from his paperwork, Thomas noticed the nun standing just inside his doorway and put his pen down beside the stack of papers. "Well it sounds like you're going to get your wish," he greeted. "The vampires will be leaving soon, off to kill on some distant battlefield." The priest's voice held no tinge of judgment. If anything, he sounded the slightest bit... envious.

"Yeah," the nun began slowly, "that's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about. I've decided that I... that I'm going with them."

Thomas's eyes widened considerably, then they quickly returned to their normal state as the priest got a hold of his surprise. "I see." Silence hung between the two for a good five to seven seconds before Thomas broke it by continuing, "I thought you were through looking for fights."

"I didn't ask for this," Debra replied. "The fate of the world hangs in the balance, and for some reason I don't feel all that comfortable entrusting it to vampires, witches and warlocks."

"Those aren't the only ones going."

"No, but they make up the bulk of the fighting force. And the rest of them are either Protestants, Atheists or follow some strange amalgam of different beliefs. If this battle is to decide the fate of the world, there should be at least one representative of God and his One True Church, don't you think?"

"I think... you are rationalizing. You are searching for an excuse, and when we do that we'll always find at least one. The truth is, you want to fight. You yearn for combat, the thrill of battle and the power you feel when taking another being's life – that most basic expression of your superiority over them. You crave it like a drug. I know; I'm the same way.

"But we can not give into this temptation. We can't feed these desires. If we do, we'll become caught in our former lives once more. 'Can a man take fire in his bosom, and his clothes not be burned? Can one go upon hot coals, and his feet not be burned?'*"

"Thomas," Debra replied, "I've never met a priest like you before. You've got an insight into temptation and sin which can only be born from first hand experience. And your warnings and instructions about how to resist the Devil's snares are usually full of wisdom. But, in this one case, you're full of crap!

"I'm not going so that I can kill again. I'm going so that I can protect others – a shepherd guarding the flock against wolves! There's nothing wrong with that."

"For most people, no. But you and I aren't most people; we are killers, born and bred. Your intentions at this moment may even be pure, but once you start back down this path... The road to Hell is paved with good intentions, Debra."

"That's not in the Bible, and you know it. It's just something people say, no different from an apple a day keeps the doctor away. God judges the heart, and you know that."

"And what about your heart! Are you so sure of it?! Are you one-hundred percent positive that you're going off to war, not for the thrill of killing, but to protect the weak – that there's no part of you that's looking forward to the battle itself?"

"Temptations of the flesh will always be present," the nun consented. "But my spirit is pure, of this I'm sure."

Once again, the veil of silence hung between the two. And once again, it was Thomas who eventually pierced that veil. "Very well. I pray that you're right. And I'll pray for both your physical and spiritual safety as well. And when the battle's over, the dead scattered at your feet and your robes stained with the blood of the slain, I pray that you'll be able to turn away from the path of death and destruction. But whether you are or not, know that you will always find sanctuary here."

"I know," Debra replied. "And I will return; you'll see."

"Perhaps," Thomas consented. Then he made the sign of the cross. "Go with God, Sister. May He watch over you and send His holy angels to keep guard round about you -- in the name of our lord, Jesus the Christ, – Amen."

"And you, Father. I'll... I'll miss you."

And the old priest smiled sadly. "I'll miss you too."

* * *

In preparation for their departure, Michael had taken stock of the supplies taking stock of their supplies. And he'd found them to be rather pathetic, which was pretty much what he'd expected given the circumstances. Michael was now headed to the back room which had been provided for Sir Integra as part of the sanctuary they no longer needed and would soon be leaving. He wasn't sure if she'd still be there or not, but he thought it was as good a place as any to begin his search. And, as luck would have it, she was still there.

"Go away," Integra's voice came through the closed door, following Michael's knock.

The sniper thought his boss sounded a little on edge... more so than usual. But there wasn't a great deal of time left before they needed to gather at the Devil's Triangle, and Michael figured he could not afford to waste any of it. He knocked again.

"I said go away."

Circumstances being what they were, the sniper chose to ignore his boss's order. "Are you decent?" he asked through the closed door and, straining his ears, thought he heard a muffled huff from the other side.

"Yeah, I'm decent."

With that reassurance, the sniper opened the door and stepped inside.

"I thought I told you to go away," Integra replied her back towards the door.

"I apologize, Sir. But I have a concern, and I didn't think it would be wise to wait to bring it to your attention."

The lady knight sighed and turned around. "Alright, what's so important that you had to disturb me right now."

At first Micheal didn't respond. He was too taken back by his boss's appearance. The area around her eyes was slightly swollen. It wasn't a large difference, and Integra's glasses did a lot to cover it up. But Michael had always taken notice of the lady knight's eyes, and he recognized the symptom. "Have... have you been crying?" he asked, too stunned by the revelation to think about the fact that his boss probably didn't want anyone to know.

"Of course not," the lady knight replied defensively.

"D-do you want to tal-" Michael began but stopped mid word when he saw the fiery glare Integra was shooting at him. "Uh, guess not," he finished sheepishly.

"You wanted something," Integra responded, changing the subject.

"Yeah, ah..." Michael paused for a moment as he tried to remember his pretext for entering the room. "I've taken stock of our supplies. And I don't think they're sufficient for the upcoming battle. Seras brought one backpack full of spare ammo with her, but knowing the way Alucard goes through clips, I doubt we've got more than ten minutes worth of spares for him. We only have two extra Harkonnen rounds. And all I've got is the three extra clips of sniper ammo I brought with me from the Order armory. Also, if we're going to be camping out at this ancient ruin, it would probably be a good idea to have some sort of refrigeration unit and a generator to power it. Ice and coolers are only going to keep blood from spoiling for so long, and spoiled blood smells pretty rank. Plus it might be a good idea to have some extra blood packets and guns, just in case. Oh, and some C-Rats too, since we don't know how long we're going to have to hold our ground. Oh, and..."

Integra held up her hand in a 'stop' motion."Okay, I get it. You _may_ have a point. And I suppose you have a suggestion on where we can get a hold of all these extra supplies?"

"The reserve armory in the Hellsing basement was intact when I saw it last; and since most of the combat was directed upwards, I'd guess it still is. Also, if I remember correctly, there are a few off site bunkers filled with weapons, ammunition and other supplies."

"True, but that's all back in England, doesn't do us a whole lot of good right now."

"Which is why I'd like your permission to return to England. I could fly there, gather up the supplies we need, charter a military plane to air lift everything to the Devil's Triangle, and rendezvous with you there in about twenty to twenty-five hours."

"Ha! More likely you'll simply slink away and head for the hills as soon as you're back in England," Integra scoffed.

And for the first time Michael actually seemed upset by one of her derogatory comments. "Okay, I think that's about enough of the 'untrustworthy deserter' attitude."

"Excuse me?" Integra asked, surprised by the sniper's reply.

"Tell me, at what point did I ever _not_ follow through on a commitment I made to you? Alright, yes, I left Hellsing. BUT I fulfilled my contract _first_. Yes, I knocked you upside the head and surrendered when we were hopelessly outnumbered. But that was only to keep you from getting yourself killed in a battle you couldn't possibly win. And I did have a plan for getting us out of that dungeon they locked us up in.

"Also, I'd like to point out that if I really wanted out of that fight I could've easily escaped on my own. I was already in the air vents for crying out loud! How hard do you think it would've been for me to pick a room that the fighting had already passed by and exit through a window? Did I do that? No! Instead I went to where the fighting was the thickest, where you were making your last stand and fought by your side until all hope of victory was gone. And then I saved your life!" the sniper continued, drawing ever closer to the lady knight until there was scarcely a foot between the two.

"Granted, my methods may be a little... 'different'. And maybe I have a hard time playing the 'good, little soldier'. But at what point have I ever broken a promise to you? Or failed to be where I told you I would be?"

And Integra was momentarily stunned, for she realized for the first time that she could not think of one instance where Michael had reneged on a commitment he'd made to her. The lady knight subconsciously bit her lower lip as she slowly came to a decision she'd never thought she'd make. "Alright," she began slowly, almost as if she feared the words she was saying. "You have my permission to return to England and gather supplies. But," she was quick to add, "I swear, if you _don't _show, I'l-"

"Integra," Michael cut in, staring directly into the woman's eyes. "_I_ swear, I'll be there."

His gaze didn't waver, his eyes remaining locked on hers, and Integra found that she really did believe him. She nodded without thinking about it. And then she noticed just how close they were and wondered why that closeness made her feel... apprehensive.

She knew he wasn't going to attack her or anything and was confident that, even if he was to try something so foolish... and pointless, she was perfectly capable of defending herself. She knew she was in no physical danger. So why did their closeness and the way his piercing, dark-blue eyes stared down at her make her feel so uneasy – almost like a cornered tigress?

But before she had the chance to find an answer to this question, Michael pulled away. "I... I should get going. I've got a lot to do and not much time to do it in."

"Yes... Ah, you're dismissed, Mr. Belmont."

Michael saluted and then turned toward the door. He paused as he reached it. "And, just for the record, that guy got what was coming to him. His decision to launch an unprovoked attack on us cost many lives, on both sides, and I'm sure left more than a few children morning the loss of a parent. Allowing him to escape justice would've only brought more misery in the long run." The sniper didn't wait for a reply from his boss; he knew better than to expect one. Instead, he just continued through the doorway and out of her room.

* * *

"Okay, so I'm not technically a person, myself," Alison commented. "But I've got a piece of a real person's... er, huma- … um, livin- … Well, I've got a piece of a real soul anyway. So, if that Sheogorath guy was telling the truth, I guess that means I'm more real than most of the people out there, right?"

Fluffy just stared up strangely at the vampire girl standing before her. The kitten let out a confused sort of meow, obviously not understanding a word the other vampire had said.

"Yeah, I knew you'd say that," Alison replied as she sat, her legs perched over the side of the church's bell tower. The vampire let out a sigh, and then she heard foot steps on the stairs leading up the bell tower's interior.

Soon the wooden trap door was thrown open and Baskerville bounded to the platform beneath the bell. The dark beast was shortly followed by Keith. "Alison, there you are. What are you doing up here? Everyone else is already ready to leave?"

"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to hold everyone up," the girl replied in a solemn tone. "Fluffy and I were just... well, pondering the meaning of life I guess."

"I see," Keith replied with a raised eyebrow. "And was the cat much help?" he asked in a deadpan tone, eliciting a short half-giggle from the vampiric girl.

"No, not really," she replied. "It's a cat; I don't think it actually understood anything I was saying."

"Such as?"

"Oh, I was just wondering if having a part of a soul made me more real than the 'soulless constructs' Sheogorath said most people were."

"Oh," Keith replied and paused for a moment. "I see you're still... unsettled by that," he then continued in a bit of an awkward tone.

"Wouldn't you be?" she asked.

And the ex-marine stopped to think. "Yeah, probably... at least a little bit. But maybe it wouldn't seem so bad if you tried looking at it a different way."

"How so?"

"Well, you're thinking that being formed from a shard of that other vampire's soul somehow makes you less ...um, human, right?"

"I'm not exactly 'human' to begin with, but yeah, basically."

"Well, maybe it would help to think of yourself more like a twin. Identical twins are the result of one fertilized egg that splits into two embryos. That's kinda what happened with you and Alucard, right? Except for the fact that it happened outside of the womb."

"So, you're saying that I'm less of a copy and more of an identical twin?"

"Yeah, basically... except for the identical part. The fact that you were split from another being doesn't make you any less real. It just gives you an opportunity to develop differently, have your own life. You ceased to be a 'part' of that other vampire when you were split from him and began having different experiences. You're not some kind of a... a 'girly-card'. You're Alison, a separate being unto yourself, just like any identical twin."

Now it was Alison's turn to stop and think. Maybe Keith had a point. After all, no one would try to tell a twin they weren't a 'real person' just because they were the result of an embryonic split. Maybe she wasn't so different. "You know, I think you may be on to something here," the vampiric girl responded, her tone sounding happy for the first time since she'd discovered her origin. "I... Thank you."

"No problem," Keith replied with a subtle smile. "Now, come on. The others are waiting. Time to save the world and be big damn heroes*."

Alison laughed. "Okay, see you down there." And with that she pushed off of her perch and floated down to the ground below.

"Show off," Keith commented with a chuckle. Then, turning back to the trap door, he sardonically continued, "Sure, make the old guy run up and down the tower steps while the kid gets to just jump of the side and float down." Life was so unfair.

* * *

*Proverbs 6:27&28

*See if you can guess where I got that term from. ;p

Well, thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed the new chapter. Please drop me a review and let me know what you thought of it. Thanks. ;)

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid.

To Ghost: Hehe, glad to hear you were able to find the story again. And even better that it actually made enough of an impression for you to remember it, despite losing the link. Thanks for the review :) I'm glad you're enjoying this so much and like all the little sub-plots that keep popping up. Hope this fic continues to live up to your expectations!


	20. Chapter 20: The Beginning of the End

**The Beginning of the End**

**AN: **Hey, sorry about missing last week's update. I'd gone to visit my brother (for his birthday) last weekend, and I slept over his house. And, well, it just would've been rude to sit in front of my laptop for two to three hours, writing a fanfiction when I haven't even seen my brother (or his family) in about three months. Er, anyway, sorry about the delay. Hope you enjoy the new chapter.

Oh, and just to warn you, this one's mostly about Michael. Sorry, but I thought that he needed a little bit more background and the story needed a little something to help bridge the Hellsing and Castlevania mythos. We'll get back to the main cast with the next chapter.

* * *

The time had come and all the slayers – save Michael who had departed for England several hours earlier -- were assembled together: knights, vampires, undead beasts, mages, mercs and a single, warrior nun. They came from all walks of life, and their talents were as varied as their histories. Yet, one thing bound them all together, nay two. They each had experience in putting the walking dead back into the grave, and none of them wanted to see this world destroyed. It may not have been the Earth they thought it was, but it was their home never-the-less.

The Order had a few private planes, and their new leader offered one the Integra and her followers, mostly to keep the 'loose canon' knight – who 'randomly' chopped off people's heads – away from the rest of the Order's dwindled membership for as long as possible. Integra and Keith boarded the plane's passenger area, and Debra followed them, preferring the company of the lady knight and aged soldier over that of witches and warlocks.

Baskerville and fluffy were once more in their large pet carrier, and Seras and Alucard were again crammed into the latter's velvet lined coffin. Alison rested in another coffin, one provided for her by the Order. They'd recognized the vampire's need to rest in a coffin containing the dirt of her homeland when crossing over flowing water – or else suffer a temporary power decrease – and had the coffin specially made for her while they had her in custody; and though she felt a little uneasy using anything provided by the organization that had tortured her, knowing that she'd be surrounded by those who had become her friends and allies went a long way towards setting the young vampire's mind at ease. All three containers of 'precious cargo' were loaded into the plane's hold by airport workers.

Inside the dark coffin of the centuries old vampire, Seras watched Alucard carefully. "Master, you're not going to... to try anything like last time are you?" she asked.

Alucard flashed her a wolfish grin. "There are many thing's I'd like to 'try' with you, young one." He paused for a moment and watched her reaction to the statement. She blushed, and that pleased him for some reason. "But," he then continued, "I will do nothing without your permission."

"But last time..."

"Last time you were my fledgling. That is no longer the case. You are now a proper vampire in your own right, even if you are still quite young, and I don't have a right to what's yours any longer... unless, of course, you extend me that right." Alucard paused once more. "You don't even have to call me master anymore, if you do not wish to do so."

"Oh," Seras responded and stopped to think about her former master's words for a moment.

And Alucard took the opportunity to continue, "So, now the question is what is it you want; what do you desire? What would _you_ 'like to try'?" The ancient vampire's eyes flashed with mischievous glee and anticipation as he saw his former fledgling nervously bite her lower lip.

He knew how she felt about him, her blood had told him that. And He'd made no secret of his intentions towards her. But the question now was, would she act on those feelings, or continue trying to keep them bottled up? She could no longer count on him to be the aggressor and simply play 'defense', and Alucard was quite enjoying watching the internal debate his protégé was going through. He believed that, eventually, she'd give in to her desires, but it was a question of when: Days? Months? Years? Or maybe she'd relent right here and now? He didn't know, and he rather enjoyed that. Somehow it made things all the more exciting.

"So... It's all about what I want now?" Seras asked in an unfamiliar tone.

"Yes," Alucard replied, his own tone deep and seductive.

"Well, in that case... I want a kiss," Seras stated.

And her former master's brow furled. "A kiss?"

"Yes."

"Police Girl, vampires do not... _kiss_. They bite, suck and mate. Kissing is a form of human interaction," Alucard informed. "It has no place between two vampires."

"Don't care," Seras replied coyly. "You said it was about what I want, and I want a kiss."

Alucard didn't say anything for a few seconds. Instead he just stared at his former fledgling. Even as a full-blown vampire, she was still so human. And it was strange, but for some reason, he found himself rather pleased by that. "Alright, Seras, if you want to make out like a couple of human teenagers..."

And with that he leaned his face in until his lips met hers. After a moment or two, their mouth's parted, and their tongues began to duel. He would've preferred another round of blood bonding, to taste her life force, her essence; but he would settle for her lips. This was what she wanted... and at least he'd get a little bit of action.

* * *

The yard around the house was littered with junk, not trash but junk. Old and rusting motors, a cutting table, power tools, dilapidated sheds and work benches were all scattered here and there. The place gave off the impression that in earlier days it might've been a versatile and well stocked work area, though most passersbys could only guess at the type of work it had been used for. Yet, now... now the whole thing just looked like a collection of junk.

Michael sighed and shook his head as he made his way to the small house in the center. His grandfather was getting old, too old to keep up with his calling, the family 'business'. This was long overdue, and Michael felt guilty that he'd neglected his duty for so long.

He reached the front door and slammed the large knocker against the wood several times, wondering why his grandparents had never had a doorbell installed. And then he waited for one of them to come, unlock the door and let him in. As he waited, Michael checked his watch.

He'd already been to the mansion and stripped it of everything he thought might be useful for the upcoming conflict, and he'd made arrangements to have the supplies from the off site bunkers waiting for him at a secret military airstrip in the English country side. These two actions had taken considerable time and he only had an hour and a half left before his plane was scheduled to take off.

It would take him approximately fifty minutes to reach the airstrip, forty if he really gunned his rental car and didn't get pulled over by any bobbies. So that left him forty to fifty minutes to visit with his grandparents, who -- other than a few exchanged phone calls -- he hadn't had any interaction with in over a year.

"Never enough time," the sniper grumbled bitterly and determined that, should he survive the battles awaiting him in the Devil's Triangle, he'd find some way to make more time for his grandfather and grandmother. Living and working in England, at the Hellsing organization, once more should make that a little easier.

There was a click as the deadbolt was turned and then the door cracked open slightly and a single green eye could be seen in the space in-between the door and the door frame. It opened widely in surprise. "Michael?"

"Hello, Grandda'."

The door slammed shut and Michael could hear the sound of the chain lock being slid and removed as well. And then the door opened widely, and his grandfather extended his arms to the lad. "It's been too long," the elderly man greeted.

"Yes, it has," Michael agreed as a bitter-sweet smile crept into his features. Then he stepped into the house and hugged his grandfather.

Michael's grandmother soon entered the house's entrance hallway. "Jake, Honey, who's at the..." She stopped mid sentence as she caught sight of their visitor. "Michael?"

"Yes, Elena, our boy's come for a visit," the elderly gentleman commented as he and his grandson pulled away, their greeting hug having come to an end.

"Oh? You know Easter or Christmas would've been better," Elena commented with a tone of slight reprove. "Even still... It's good to see you again," she then continued as her lips pulled into a smile.

"How long are you going to be in England?" Micheal's grandfather asked.

"I could make up the guest room," the grandmother offered.

"No, I'm afraid I can't stay long. I'm in the middle of... well, I just can't stay right now," Michael replied and saw the hurt on his grandparents' faces. "But I'm actually going to be settling down in England. And I promise I'll be by to visit as soon as I can. I've just got... a few loose ends to tie up first," the sniper was quick to add, careful not to say too much about his current situation. He didn't need to worry his grandmother.

"Alright, I guess that's acceptable," Elena commented though her face still bore a tinge of sadness. "BUT, you're at least going to stay for tea... and I expect you to pay us a proper visit as soon as you're done tying up these 'loose ends'."

Michael laughed. "You can count on it," he replied. _'Assuming I'm still alive,' _he mentally added.

"Alright, I'll go boil the water. It'll be ready in ten minutes," Elena informed as she headed for the kitchen.

Once she was gone, Michael's grandfather turned to him. "You've come for her, haven't you?" Jake asked, his hushed tone carrying an air of extra importance. Michael nodded, and his grandfather continued, "Follow me."

Jake led his grandson through the entrance hallway and to the house's small den, and Michael noticed a slight limp in his grandfather's movements – a new development since he'd seen him last. It seemed that his grandfather was still 'active' in the family business. Michael hung his head.

The pair reached the den, a room covered in antiques, artifacts and relics from all around the world. And Michael's grandfather went to the roll-top desk and opened the bottom drawer. From beneath a stack of papers, Jake pulled out a medium-sized, wooden box and brought it over to his grandson.

The box was mahogany, and crafted with both care and exquisite detail. Yet, though it projected the image that what was inside was an object of great worth, no one unfamiliar with the family's history could've guessed just how valuable the treasure inside the small chest really was.

Jake opened the box revealing an ebony whip. It was dark as night – other than its brown handle – and looked somehow slick, as if it had just been oiled. "I can present you with the box, but the final decision is hers. I warn you, do not attempt to wield her power if she's unwilling to accept you. You may get away with it for a time, but consequences aren't worth it," the grandfather cautioned.

Michael gulped and remembered the tale of a distant cousin who'd once possessed the vampire-slaying-whip and used it despite not being 'chosen'. Briefly, he'd wielded the whip as well as anyone. But, that power had come at the price of his own life.

The sniper reached out and grasped the whip's handle, then took an involuntary deep breath as another consciousness invaded his mind. _'*He's* been here, hasn't he?'_ a feminine voice seethed.

_'Yes,'_ Michael answered simply.

_'I thought as much. I can still sense his taint.' _The voice in Michael's head paused for a moment, as if it suddenly became aware of who it was addressing. _'You're not Jake,' _it accused.

_'No, I'm Michael, Jake's grandson.'_

_'Ah, yes, Michael. I remember when your mother first decided on that name. Personally, I preferred Gabriel, but she thought that sounded pretentious.'_

_'You... knew my mother?' _Michael asked, surprised to learn of this. His mother had been killed in a car accident when Michael was but five, and other than what his grandparents told him, he had little memory of her – just a few scattered images and brief scenes lacking context.

_'She wielded my power for nearly a decade. I was... sorry to discover what happened to her. She was a capable warrior and deserved a better death than that.'_

'She deserved a longer life,' Michael replied.

And the voice chuckled. _'Spoken like a true human. The length of one's life is not nearly as important as what one does with it. Life without purpose is meaningless. Your mother had purpose. If you wish to morn something, morn the fact that she could not pass from this world in a manner befitting the woman she was, not that her time here was short,'_ it responded and then shifted the conversation before Michael could continue it any further. _'You have met the No-Life King?'_

_'Yes.'_

_'And you seek my power to defeat him?'_

_'No, to help him.'_

_'*Help* him?'_ The voice was incredulous.

_'Things have changed over the last century. He serves a human master now; he preys upon other monsters, rather than humans.'_

_'Ah, so he has moved up the food chain, has he?'_

_'Yes.'_

_'And... the monster is content to serve this human master?'_

_'He does seem to be.'_

At this the voice chuckled again. _'Will wonders never cease. You live for centuries and think you've seen it all, but Circumstance has always got one more card up his sleeve. So, if the lion's lying down with the lambs, what need have you of my power?'_

_'There are other lions out there, as your continued work with my grandfather has doubtless shown you. And a few – one at least – are an even greater threat than he.'_

_'Is that so? And what is this greater threat?'_

_'Another king of death, one who's been ruler for millennia longer than the No-Life King.'_

_'I see. And you seek my power so that you might defeat this other king of death?'_

_'Yes.'_

_'Then I see only one problem.'_ The voice paused as if for emphasis._ 'I don't like you.'_

_'What?' _Michael asked, astounded and confused by the statement. This was the first time he'd ever held his ancestral whip, the first time they'd ever communicated. How could she not like him? She didn't even know him.

_'I didn't like your father either. I warned your mother about him, told her he was no good. Of course she didn't listen to me... but in the end I think she wished she had. He never could commit to her, and he ran out on her as soon as she became pregnant. And you... you have too much of him in you.'_

_'__I am a Belmont.' _

_'A Belmont? Indeed? You are in your mid twenties and this is the first time we've... spoken. Your grandfather is in his sixties, if you were a true Belmont you would've stepped in for him when you came of age. But you didn't instead you ran, just as you've always done when faced with adversity... just as he did when he discovered he was going to be a father. You're not a Belmont; your blood is thin, watered down.'_

"I am a Belmont!" Michael declared out loud, momentarily forgetting himself and the fact that such overt statements weren't necessary since the whip was already in his head, reading his thoughts as they formed. _'And I'm through running.'_

_'Oh, so then you'll enter this battle with... or without my powers?'_

Micheal's eyes narrowed. _'I'll enter this battle *with* your powers, with or without your blessing.'_

_'Don't be stupid. You know what these powers will do to you if I don't shield you from their negative effects.'_

_'The soul-bound whip's vampiric nature will drain my life even as it grants me its powers. I'll die. But so what? If I enter this battle without your powers I'll die anyway. At least with them I'll be able to do some good before I go.'_

_'So you believe that you will die either way, and yet you're still committed to this fight?'_

Michael paused and thought about that for a moment. _'It's not how long you live, but what you do with your life that's important, right?'_

And the whip chuckled once more. _'Perhaps I have misjudged you. Perhaps you do have the blood of a Belmont after all. Yes, *perhaps*... But, there's only one way to know for certain.' _And with that the tip of the whip curled around Michael's body and penetrated the flesh of his back. It pierced his heart and came out through his chest. Then it curled upwards, raising itself to his eyes, staring him in the face, and he saw the ebony surface covered in his own life blood. It hovered there for a moment as if searching him for something.

And then the slick, oily thing retracted itself from the sniper. It absorbed the blood that still covered its surface. _'The blood of a Belmont indeed,'_ the voice commented, with a tone of satisfaction, as the hole through Michael's upper body – almost instantly – closed up and scarred over. _'My powers are at your command.'_

_

* * *

_Well, thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed the new chapter. Please drop me a review and let me know what you thought of it. Thanks. ;)

Next chapter, the two groups arrive at the Devil's triangle and find a small, mysterious island which holds an ancient bridge across dimensions. A few of the King of Worm's followers have already found their way through and are waiting outside the old ruin. Can the combined forces of what's left of Hellsing and the Order defeat this foothold and take back the ancient and deadly maze of Xedilian?

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid.


	21. Chapter 21: Arrival at Xedilian

**Arrival at Xedilian**

**AN:** Um, I really don't have too much to say about this chapter other than I hope you enjoy. ;p

* * *

When the planes arrived at the small island of Xedilian, they circled around it, searching for a place to land. The island was a forgotten relic, a leftover from a previous age and as such had no airport or modern runways. However the beach to the north did possess a long, smooth and flat surface of compressed sand, and the pilot who first happened upon that beach figured that the area was just about the right size for his small plane, and he guessed that the hard sand could stand the weight of such a flier. At least he hoped it could.

His passengers were not exactly an understanding bunch – not from the rumors he'd heard. And he wasn't sure if he would survive informing them that they'd come this far and were forced to turn back because there was no safe place to land. Heck, if half of what he'd heard was accurate, they'd be more likely to storm the cockpit and force an 'emergency landing' in the ocean than let him turn the plane around now. So, the man gritted his teeth together, crossed himself and said a prayer as he began his descent.

Fortunately, the sand did hold, and the plane stopped just short of the far tree line. The pilot breathed a sigh of relief and slumped back in his chair. For a few seconds he just rested as he waited for the adrenaline high to finish running its course. Then he radioed the other planes and informed their pilots of the primitive landing strip, and then he let his own passengers know that they'd arrived safely.

* * *

Integra's plane was the first on the ground, and her and her followers were already out by the time the others started to circle the landing strip. Summoning her pets to her, the lady knight gave them instructions to offload what cargo the group had with them and then set to the task of clearing the recently landed planes from the long end of the beach so that the remaining ones could land. Vampiric strength, the knight reflected, did have it's advantages after all. Even still... since only one plane could land at a time, it took over a half hour before the combined forces of the Order and the Hellsing Organization were fully assembled.

And once that occurred, Alison found herself the ungrateful recipient of a young Order mage's unwanted attention. "I see you used the coffin we provided," the lad began obliviously. "Glad to see that you're not holding a grudge. I've..."

He was interrupted as Alison's eyes narrowed to red slits and she cut in, "A grudge?" she growled. "Your Order abducted me, strapped me to a table and tortured me with lightning, ice and fire for days on end. You experimented on me. Cut me, starved me, and drowned me – repeatedly! The first days of my... 'life' I knew nothing but pain, suffering and misery... and you think I'm not 'holding a grudge'?" she seethed.

"Boy, if it were up to me, I'd slaughter every last one of you – tear you into pieces, rip the flesh from your bones and leave your carcasses sprawled upon this beach for the birds and the beasts of the field to feast upon. I used the coffin your organization supplied because I was ordered to by my master – not because I've... I've 'forgiven' you... or anything like that. Now get away from me – and stay away from me – before I forget about this 'treaty' and tear off your arms and choke you with them!"

The young Order mage gulped and all the color drained from his face as he nodded dumbly. He then turned and very quickly made his way back over to where the rest of the Order members had gathered upon the beach.

"'Not holding a grudge', honestly?" Alison commented in disbelief and then felt somehow disturbed, her vampiric senses warning her that she was being watched. The young vampire turned to the tree line and stared at it for a moment, until the foliage sort of melted into the background and her supernatural senses picked out a pair of glossy white eyes peering out through the sea of green and brown. "Er, guys," she called as she turned back towards the rest of her group, "I think we've got company."

Those were the last words spoken before the killing began, for no sooner had they left Alison's mouth than a pack of unholy undead burst from the tree line. They came in like a flood... a slow moving, lurching, moaning flood. Yet their numbers made it an accurate analogy, for as the Hellsing and Order members readied to defend themselves, a veritable sea of pale, sickly green corpses advanced upon them.

Alucard's guns were the first to sound as they drove blessed silver into the heads of the advancing swarm. His aim was superb, perfect, every single round landing right where he intended it to. But something was wrong, the creatures continued to advance. He switched from head to heart, yet they still came. "What the?" Alucard asked in surprise as he paused to stare strangely at the smoking barrel of one of his gun.

"They're zombies, not ghouls," Keith explained, "Shooting them in the head or heart isn't important, and silver rounds don't make a bit of difference. You've gotta either burn them with fire... or pulverize them past the point of regeneration."

"Oh, is that so?" Alucard asked and then broke into a crackle of dark laughter. "How novel. This is going to be fun," he cooed as he sheathed his guns within his coat. "Come, Seras, lets play with our food."

"Oh like you really needed an excuse to close in and get your hands dirty," Seras commented as she fired a Harkonnen shell into the center of the advancing mob.

Alucard laughed once more, and Seras brandished her left arm, reforming it into a long, curved blade of darkness. And then the two charged together, dancing, cutting and ripping their way through the center of the zombie horde.

Baskerville licked his chops as he saw the bloodshed and soon his own taste for it drove him into the fray. He pounced, pinned and then set about tearing out the throat of a zombie. When that failed to kill it and it still squirmed beneath him, the dark beast moved its attention south. Its jaws tore through the rotted flesh and bones of the walking corpse's chest, and the Hound of Hell feasted on the creature's innards until it stopped moving and he lost interest in it and moved on to his next victim.

Fluffy followed her master into the fray. Her smaller size, relative inexperience at being a vampiric animal and lack of overall psychotic mentality kept her from doing as much damage as Baskerville. Yet, she was able to provide a decent distraction, keeping the attention of multiple enemies, as she clawed them and used her enhanced speed to easily evade their clumsy attempts to grab or harm her.

Alison was not as quick to charge at the enemy. She possessed significantly higher intelligence than the vampiric beasts, and she wasn't nearly as experienced as Alucard... or even Seras. So, not driven as much by instinct and still feeling somewhat unsure of her capability when faced with such inhuman adversaries, the young vampire stayed in with the humans. That is, until the scent of the slaughter, the smell of spilled blood and sweat and adrenaline, and the call of the kill caused her eyes to flash red and she too gave into her baser instincts.

The humans – Hellsing and Order – alike stayed together. They did not possess the regenerative abilities or raw strength of vampires. They were more venerable – though just as deadly. And there was strength in numbers. In a close circle, the humans held against the zombies who continued to advance from the left and right flanks. Wave after wave of the undead abominations broke upon their phalanx, like waves of the ocean crashing against unyielding stone.

And then as the number of enemies on the beach thinned and the vampires continued to cut a swatch deep up the enemies' center, the time came for the humans to pull apart and join the advance. They separated into pairs, duos, with one person taking point and the other acting protectively as a 'wingman'. Integra and Debra found themselves naturally drawn to run another.

Perhaps it was because they were both female warriors in roles traditionally occupied by men. Perhaps it was because they'd dueled against each other before and each had a good idea of the other's style. Perhaps it was because they both wielded medieval, melee weapons so their styles complimented one another. Or perhaps it was simply because everyone Integra would've felt more comfortable fighting beside had already gone off and Debra didn't fancy standing with witches or warlocks.

Whatever the reason, the warrior nun and English knight naturally fell in together. Integra took the lead, as was often the case with the Hellsing Commander. Her flaming sword was ideally suited to dispatching the zombies they battled against. And Debra filled the role of wingman, as she twirled her long Halberd around to to strike and hold the horde at bay.

Keith found his partner in one of the younger order members, a male in his mid teens who'd either not yet learned to shave off his 'peach fuzz' or was making some kind of vain attempt at growing a mustache, an attempt his hormones weren't developed enough to back up. The kid wore the robes of a mage and though he never once shot any lightning or fire or ice from his hands, his staff was capable of kinetically effecting whatever he aimed it at. And while Keith's shotgun shot out twenty-foot blasts of flame, his partner seemed to be having fun throwing zombies around like rag-dolls, even if it did little more than keep them from getting close enough to maul the two.

And so the assortment of vampires, mages and good-old-fashioned human soldiers continued on, past the edge of the beach, through a stretch of tropical trees and bushes, and into a wide opening surrounding what looked like a large, very old ruin. And death and destruction followed in their wake as they left their enemies, dismembered, burned and inanimate. The mindless horde of zombies never really stood a chance as they were driven all the way back to the stone structure they'd come from... and then eradicated utterly.

* * *

Once the fighting was done, Integra stared at the dead corpses that littered the area around the ruin. Sheogorath had indicated that these creatures had been trying to find a way through to the outside world for quite some time. Yet, with the shear number who'd already crossed the dimensional barrier, it seemed strange to Integra that they would've needed to find a way through the Xedilian maze. Why hadn't they simply made their own way out? With that many drones how long could it take to tear down a few sections of the old, stone walls that made up the structure and create a new opening?

"I wonder," the lady knight mused aloud. "Seras, do you have a Harkonnen shell left?"

"Yes, Sir, I believe so," Seras replied as she unslung her backpack to look through their ammo reserves.

"Good. I want you to fire it at the side of that structure."

"Excuse me, Sir?"

"You heard me, Officer Victoria. I want to test a theory."

"Ah, yes, Sir," Seras responded and fired off a quick salute before reloading her weapon and taking aim.

The shell ripped down the Harkonnen's barrel, flew through the air and struck the side of the ancient structure with a great 'Whoooop' sound that startled those in the area who hadn't been paying attention to the two girls or their conversation.

"Wh-what was that?" one surprised Order member asked. "I thought the fighting was over."

Integra ignored the other woman's question as the lady knight instead watched the impact point and waited for the smoke to clear. And when it did, Integra's lip curled, for her theory was correct. The explosion that should've blasted a whole right through the ancient stone wall had merely seared and chipped away a small section of it. Furthermore, as the knight continued to watch, the very fabric of reality itself bent and twisted around the injured stone, returning it to normal. The place may have looked like an old ruin, but it was much more. It was tied to this... 'other Earth' in some mystical way. It existed out of some necessity and could not be destroyed. Perhaps that was why the once human ruler of this realm had been unable to seal the portal contained within?

Perhaps... but such considerations were ultimately unimportant and irrelevant. Integra now understood her situation. It was time to think tactically. "Okay, we need to set up bunkers around this area," Integra ordered as she indicated the only visible entrance to the Xedilian maze. "These undead abominations are crossing over into this reality somewhere within that structure, and this opening forms a natural choke point. It'll funnel the enemy to us... But we also need to know if this place has any other exits." Integra stopped and looked around for a moment.

"You," she said, pointing to a small gathering of four Order agents, "pair off into two teams and circle around the building. One of you take the right path and the other the left. Look for any other way out of the structure. Then, when you meet back up on the other side, return here and report your findings to me."

"Now, just a minute, the current leader of the Order," protested. "These are my men. They follow _my_ orders, not yours."

"We need a chain of command here," Integra countered, "Someone has to be in charge of both groups or we're not going to be able to properly coordinate our efforts."

"And that 'someone' is you?" He questioned, obviously unpleased by the idea.

"Yes," she replied simply.

"Uhuh, why?"

"Because _you_ cannot lead my followers. My vampires would never obey you."

"And you think the members of my organization will obey you?"

Integra grinned. "You tell me," she replied as she pointed at one of the two man teams who were already making their way around the old building.

The current leader of the Order just scowled and walked away grumbling. And without another word of contention or any clear admission of subservience from him, Integra Hellsing became the unofficial head of their allied forces.

She chuckled slightly and then heard the roar of a plane high above. Looking up, the lady knight saw a great cargo plane soring over the island and several specks of white slowly drifting downwards. Integra's hand went up you shield her sensitive, blue eyes from the blazing, tropical sun as she squinted at the far away objects. A few seconds passed and they came close enough for her to make them out: parachutes. And dangling from the lines attached to the parachutes were brown crates of varying sizes and shapes and one figure who's outline roughly resembled that of a human.

Without her knowledge, the corner of Integra's lip curled upwards. Michael had showed up after all, just as he promised. And he'd managed to gather a rather large assortment of... well various supplies. For the exact details, the knight would have to wait until the crates started striking the ground.

* * *

Fortunately, for the sniper the wind was light and steady at the moment and it did little to disrupt his trajectory. He floated softly down into the clearing around the old ruin, and most of the crates landed fairly close to him, though a few did drift off slightly beyond the tree line.

Michael touched down, and rolled as his body struck the ground. Then he unhooked his parachute and looked around. He was more than a little pleased to find that Integra was already making her way over to him. And he grinned.

His grin then fell as the lady knight approached and said, "You're late."

"I am not," Michael defended. "I said twenty to twenty-five hours and it's only been twenty-three hours and fourteen minutes."

Integra shook her head. "Doesn't matter... You're still late." She pointed over at some scattered and charred zombie body parts. "I'm afraid we had to start the party without you."

At first the sniper looked confused by his boss's comments and attitude. He'd seen her throw accusations at him plenty of times before, but her tone and mannerisms were different now. She didn't seem angry, or upset, and her words didn't match her demeanor. And for a moment, Michael wondered what was going on.

But then an idea struck him. Was... was this Integra being coy? Playful? It did seem possible. He'd never seen her act like this before, at least not to him. And given their past, the sniper figure that he'd probably seen just about every negative reaction in the lady knight's repertoire. So, by process of elimination, if her accusation wasn't meant to really be negative, then she had to be being coy... right?

Michael decided to test this theory, by playing along. "Hmmm, guess you're right. I missed the hors d'oeuvres, but I'll be here for the dancing and the main course. And I did bring a bundle of... 'party favors'," the sniper replied with a smirk and was rewarded with a light laugh from the lady knight. It seemed his theory had been correct after all.

* * *

Well, thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed the new chapter. Please drop me a review and let me know what you thought of it. Thanks. ;)

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid.


	22. Chapter 22: Breathing Room

**Breathing Room**

**AN: **I've included a lot of references in this one – Easter eggs, if you will. Some are pretty obvious, other not so much. For a little extra fun, try an see how many you can spot, K? Oh and just to warn you, the last scene in this chapter contains some spoilers for the _Grail Quest Trilogy_. You may want to skip that if you're current reading that truly excellent series by Bernard Cornwell... or intend to read it in the future.

* * *

Two days had passed since the combined forces of Hellsing and the Order of Virtuous Blood set up shop in the ruins of Xedilian, and the situation was beginning to take its toll. The King of Worms had yet to appear himself, but more and more of his lackeys were finding their way through the trans-dimensional maze. In the beginning Hellsing and the Order only had to defend against a new wave every few hours. But now they were lucky if they got more than a half hour before the next group of walking corpses staggered through the archway. The defenders had plenty of supplies left, but they were tired and dirty. And several them had been wounded in previous attacks. Their strength was diminishing, while the aggressors' numbers seemed infinite.

Integra let out a deep breath of smoke and attempted to calm her nerves with another long drag of her cigar. Where were that bloody Daedric Prince and his two armies? Just how long did he expect her to be able to hold out without some kind of back up anyway? The knight let out another puff of smoke as her mind drifted aimless for a moment and her eyes wandered to the carvings in the blade of her sword. She wondered if they had any significance. They probably did – not many people took the time to embroider a weapon unless the symbols they were adding meant something. But whatever meaning they may have held, it was lost on the English knight.

"Just wish the bloody thing hadn't lost its fiery edge," Integra grumbled aloud, wondering why halfway through the last attack the sword's flames had vanished, leaving nothing but cold steel in their wake. It was still well forged and a devastating weapon in the hands of one as skilled in fencing as she, but it had been more effective when it lit its targets on fire and she could strike once and then move on to her next victim, rather than having to chop the first into tiny pieces to insure it didn't get back up.

"It probably needs a recharge," a voice answered.

Integra looked over her shoulder to see the shot-gun wielding American – 'Alison's' confederate – standing a short distance away. "What do you mean?" the knight asked. She hadn't actually expected an answer to her previous question, but now that an opportunity had presented itself she found herself mildly curious about the nature of her stolen sword. If nothing else it would be nice to find something other than their impending doom to occupy her mind for a few minutes.

"That's an Order weapon, right? Enchanted?"

Integra shrugged. "I guess. Michael and I ran across an armory when we busted out of where they were holding us. That's where I found it."

"Yeah, I figured it was something like that. The process the Order uses to enchant their weapons leaves them with a limited amount of energy. When that energy has been depleted, the weapon must be recharged. Until then it's no different from a common weapon of the same material and make."

"And how does one go about recharging one of these enchanted weapons?" Integra asked.

"There are two ways," Keith answered. "A person can use the mystical energy trapped within a soul gem or Varla Stone... or they can simply bring their depleted weapon to someone trained in recharging such things."

"Hmmmm, anyone left like that in the Order's ranks?"

Keith's lips pulled into a sly grin. "I seem to remember a guy from back before my... defection."

Integra lifted her sword and held the hilt out to the aged soldier. "Just see that I have it back before the next attack."

"I will try, Sir," Keith replied as he took hold of the sword.

Integra's eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of the word 'try', but she released her grip without comment. And Keith turned and began to head for where the Order members had set up camp a short distance away.

On the way, he passed by a fallen pillar. Alison was resting there, sitting up with her back resting against the cold stone. A couple of drained blood packs laid beside her on the ground.

"Feeling any better?" Keith asked.

The enemies who came out of the maze were not only increasing in numbers, but strength as well. First armored skeletons had joined the zombie hordes. Then skeletal archers had begun to appear as well, adding ranged attacks to the enemies' arsenal. In the last attack a Lich - a powerful, undead, spellcaster - had come through as well. And before the defenders could take it out, the creature had let loose a flurry of spells that left two Order members dead and Alison severely burned.

"Yeah, those blood packets hit the spot," the little vampire replied with an odd, sort of bittersweet expression. "Gorram mages," she cursed under her breath. "Hey, what are you doing with Sir Integra's sword?" the vampire asked as she noticed the weapon her friend was holding.

"Getting it recharged... hopefully," Keith replied.

"Oh... I suppose that means dealing with another mage," the girl grumbled.

"They're not all like the one who tortured you."

Alison snorted in response. "Yeah, right."

"You know there was a time when I felt the same way about the undead. But then I met one who was... different than I'd expected," Keith replied.

"You mean me?"

"Yes. When you're first introduced to a new sub-culture, it's easy to fall into the trap of judging all its members based on the first ones you meet. But just as not all undead are evil, murdering abominations, not all mages are power hungry maniacs, who can only look down on the rest of us 'muggles'."

"Yeah," the girl replied sarcastically. "I'll believe it when I see it."

"Why don't you come with me?"

"Why?"

"Because I could use the company."

Alison huffed and turned away. She paused and stared absently at the Order camp for a moment. Then she stood up and walked to Keith's side. The ex-marine smiled.

* * *

In the back of the Order camp, the area furthest removed from the fighting, there was a long wooden table upon which rested various gems, plants and vials. Mystical concoctions, in glass bottles, glowed unearthly shades of blue, purple, pink and green; and several weapons were scattered around the area, resting against the ruined, stone walls that had once made up a courtyard or lying upon the wild grass. Behind the table a young Order member stood, and Alison recognized him as the same oblivious moron who'd approached her when she'd first arrived on the island. She also thought that she'd caught a few glimpse of him and Keith working together during their initial push to the ruin, but the small vampire wasn't certain of this, having had... other things occupying her mind during that first battle. Even still, her companion definitely seemed to know the young man from somewhere, as he called him by name when they approached.

"Hey, Lewis, got a minute?"

The young man turned in the direction of the familiar voice and seemed to be surprised as he saw Alison accompanying the aged soldier. "Ah, sure, Keith. What do you need?"

"I'm afraid my new boss's sword has run out of juice. Any chance I could get you to recharge it?" Keith answered as he lifted the sword and laid it upon the table.

"Sure, It'll just take me a minute," Lewis replied as he grabbed one of the colorful bottles and drained its contents down his throat. He grimaced and then strained a sharp breath through his teeth. "Man, I hate this stuff. You'd think that by now we'd have come up with a way to make these potions more palatable," the young mage mused aloud.

Then he laid his hands on the broad side of the sword's blade and held them there. He did not speak but rather closed his eyes and seemed to be concentrating intently. A few seconds later, his hands began to glow, and then the sword followed. The energy transfer took another half minute, but then the blade hummed and the glowing slowly faded. The young man opened his eyes and handed the weapon back over. "There you go, good as new."

"Thanks."

"No problem, happy to help," the young mage replied with a pleased smile. Then he turned from Keith to Alison. "I don't know if it matters or not, but... I'm sorry fo-"

"Hey, Gob, where's that new batch of stimulant potions?" an irritated voice broke in from a few yards away as a tall man in a polished, glass cuirass approached the table.

"It takes time to brew the ingredients, Simon. The potions will be ready in another ten to fifteen minutes," Lewis answered.

"And if the next attack comes before then? Our soldier's are tired. It's your job to keep them energized!"

The young mage sighed. "I can't change the laws of physics. The ingredients are common enough, but they only mix right at specific temperatures. And some of them need time to simmer and soften before being added. I've sped things up as much as I can without risking potency. You'll just have to wait until it's ready."

"Lot of Goddamn good you are," the man in the glass armor snarled angrily then turned and stormed away.

"Gob?" Alison questioned.

"A nickname," Keith replied in a sad tone.

"It's the name of a bumbling magician from a short lived American sitcom."

"I see. And this is your nickname, why?" Alison asked, turning to Lewis.

"I..." the young mage began and paused. His cheeks tinted red. "I was born under the sign of the Atronach."

Alison just stared.

"Stunted magic," Keith explained.

"Stunted magic?" One of the vampire's eyebrows arched upwards.

Lewis took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "A normal mage's magical reserves replenish over time. Mine do not. So, I'm forced to either rely on potions or a fifty, fifty chance of absorbing hostile magic to power my spells. As a result, I'm not very good with them. I never have been. When you've gotta take a fireball to the head and hope that Lady Luck smiles on you and you absorb its energy - rather than it frying off your face – in order to recharge your reserves, you don't get as much practice in as those who can just take a five minute break and catch their second wind.

"So, I ended up devoting myself to the more... intellectual pursuits: enchanting and recharging and potion mixing. _Those_ I'm good at. I've even gotten to the point where I can mix up potions to recharge my magic... unfortunately the ingredients for those potions can be hard to come by. And I'm already so far behind in my spell craft that I'm not much good at it, even with full reserves. So, I mostly stick to what I am good at and have some decent experience with.

"Oh, speaking of which," the mage's voice trailed off as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a necklace and pendent. He held it out towards the vampire. "I saw what happened to you during that last attack. I don't know if you'll be willing to take this or not; but if you do, it'll help protect you against fire, lightning and a number of hostile spells."

Alison didn't take the offering, instead she eyed the mage warily. "What is it?"

"It's a necklace," he replied, stating the obvious. "But it's been enchanted, enchanted specifically for you. Mathusalis gave me a list of instructions on how to forge it, but he left the actual forging to me."

The vampire visibly recoiled at the mention of her torturer's name, and the mage was quick to continue, "I didn't know what he was doing to you. I swear, I had no idea where the information came from, only what it contained. I didn't even know we'd captured a vampire... well, not until your rather public escape attempt."

Alison cast a suspicious at the mage. "I doubt he's lying," Keith added in helpfully. "I've known him for years, and he's not very good at it. And your presence wasn't common knowledge. I can testify to that."

The vampire's expression was like stone. "And you crafted this yourself?" she asked Lewis cryptically.

"Once you understand how enchanting works and know what enchantments you want an item to possess when you're finished, it's not a difficult job. But it is time consuming, and I don't think Mathusalis wanted to be bothered with it. So, yes, I crafted it, but like I said I didn't know what it was for, not really, not until... after." The mage paused again, his shoes seemingly becoming interesting as he cast his eyes down to stare at them. "But... it was forged to protect you. It will help shield you... if you want it. And the fighting is getting worse."

"Mathusalis," the girl began, nearly spitting out the name, "never touched it?"

"Never."

The vampire hesitated another moment, then she snatched the necklace and pendent from the young mage's hand. And when he looked up, he found her clasping it behind her neck. She didn't say a word.

Keith cleared his throat.

"What?" the vampire asked. The aged soldier merely stared at her in a very fatherly fashion. She sighed. "I'll thank him if the bloody thing actually works," she replied crisply then turned back to the mage. "And if I find out that you _are_ lying about the extent of your involvement... or that _Mathusalis_ really did have a hand in forging this, I'll tear it off, shove my fist down your throat and use the pendent to gouge out your innards like a pumpkin."

The mage gulped. "Really, I didn't know, and Mathusalis never touched it."

"I hope so... for your sake," Alison replied, her eyes flashing red for a second. Then she turned and began to head back towards the Hellsing camp.

Keith grasped the mage's shoulder reassuringly. "Thanks again. And take care, Kid."

"N-No problem," the young mage stuttered. "H-Happy to help."

Then Keith too made his way back to the Hellsing camp, Integra's recharged sword firmly in his grasp.

* * *

Thomas couldn't sleep. He hadn't slept in days. He remembered the words of Sister Debra, and they haunted him. _"I'm not going so that I can kill again. I'm going so that I can protect others – a shepherd guarding the flock against wolves! There's nothing wrong with that."_

Indeed there wasn't. The Good Shepherd fought to protect his or her flock. The Good Shepherd laid his or her life down for them, and did so willingly, without reservation or regret. How could he claim to be a Good Shepherd if he just sat in his church while the fate of the world – the lives of everyone on it – hung in the balance?

He prayed for them, prayed that God would protect Debra, would show mercy on this 'other Earth' and spare it from the sword. Yes, he prayed, but was that enough? He was not some sheltered priest who'd grown up in seminars and Church run universities. He was not ignorant in the ways of war – no, in fact he knew them quite well. Perhaps too well?

In his youth he'd been a soldier, a warrior. He'd reveled in death and destruction. He'd craved the excitement of battle and the thrill of the kill. He still did. But now, now that thirst for blood was tempered by age, by experience, by wisdom.

He'd long since forsaken the violence of his youth. He was a priest now, like his father had always prayed he'd become, a man of God, a man of peace. He was a man who used words and the love of God to turn the hearts of the wicked. He fought not against flesh and bone, but against principalities and powers of the air.

But perhaps, right now, the world didn't need another priest? Perhaps it needed another soldier? Yes, _the_ _world_ did. But what did the Kingdom of Heaven need? What did God want from him?

That was the question that had kept him up the last couple of nights. That was the question he'd asked over and over again, the question he'd prayed for an answer to. Yet that answer hadn't come... or if it had, Thomas's own thoughts and doubts had drowned out the Heavenly reply so that he could not recognize it for what it was. No, the priest would have to try to find the answer to this question on his own.

The old man took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He rose from his knees and walked over to a shelf on which rested an old, clay bowl – a simple thing with a dent in the side where the potter who'd made it had damaged the clay before it was heated and hardened. Yet it was with an odd reverence that Thomas reached for it and gently pulled it to him.

"Calix meus inebrians," he said in an odd tone. "My cup makes me drunk," the priest repeated the phrase, that had once been his father's mantra, in his native tongue. Then the priest walked over to the small, wooden table in the corner of his room. He made the sign of the cross.

"Father, I know I said I would not drink of this again, that I was ready to return to you and would train up another to be your cup bearer. But things are... Well, you know what's going on. I've wrestled with this decision since Sister Debra left, and I believe that this is the right thing to do. I ask for your forgiveness if I'm mistaken in that belief... But if I'm right, I pray that you will lend me the strength I need to do your will, to protect your sheep. In the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, Amen."

Then the priest reached down beside the table's legs and pulled up an old, mostly empty bottle of wine. He poured what was left into the bowl and let it sit. His hand went into a pocket in his robe and he pulled out a long, beaded chain with a clasp and crucifix. He made the sign of the cross again, touched the crucifix and recited the Our Father, the Hail Marry and the Apostle's Creed.

The priest's hand then drifted over to the first bead. "Pater aeterne, offero tibi Corpus et Sanguinem, animam et divinitatem dilectissimi Filii Tui, Domini nostri, Iesu Christi, in propitiatione pro peccatis nostris et totius mundi.*"

And the wine in the bowl thickened and slowly turned from purple to a deep crimson. The common wine, consecrated by God, turned to holy blood.

* * *

*Eternal Father, I offer Thee the Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity of Thy Dearly Beloved Son, Our Lord, Jesus Christ, in atonement for our sins and those of the whole world.

Well, thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed the new chapter. Please drop me a review and let me know what you thought of it. Thanks. ;) Next chapter the final battle begins, hope you like.

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid.


	23. Chapter 23: The Battle pt1

**The Battle (pt1)**

**AN: **Yeah... this turned out a little differently than I was expecting. Hopefully it's still good though.

* * *

There was no longer any break in the enemies' attacks. Wave followed wave, and they flowed one to another like water rushing over Niagara Falls. It was becoming increasingly difficult to hold the undead hordes at the door way. Automatic weapons fire, sniper rounds, shotgun shells, explosive projectiles and offensive spells continued to cut down shambling bodies of bones and rotted flesh; but for every two enemies the defenders put down, three more followed to take their place.

The one good thing about the current situation was that the mass of dead bodies was beginning to form an obstacle itself, as zombies and skeletons were forced to side step the piles of dead or else attempt to climb over them. This made it nearly impossible for the enemy to charge. Yet this fact was of little consolation to the besieged defenders.

The enemies' numbers seemed limitless and if things continued as they were it was only a matter of time before something broke. The ammo would run out, or the soldiers would succumb to fatigue and get sloppy. Hellsing and the Order could not hold out forever.

Integra, with her sword, was behind the foremost barricade, practically at the very mouth of the ruin's entrance. It was the position that made the most tactical sense, given the limited range of her weapon of choice. To her left, Debra wielded her Halberd with all the fury Integra would've expected from a nun who'd once been an Iscariot. To the knight's right Keith's shotgun sounded a near continuous chime as each chemical round sprayed fire from the barrel until it was depleted and the ex-marine had to pump that round out and chamber the next into place. *Pump. Click. Boom. Pump. Click. Boom.*

Across from Integra's three man (or more appropriately one man and two women) unit, four order members stood behind another barricade, flanking the opposite side of the ruin's entrance. They were led by Sir Simon, one of the few pure warriors in the Order's ranks. He was a tall man, powerfully built and armored from head to toe in shining, green, hardened glass – the best protection available in the lighter armor class. At the moment, they were holding... though barely.

Sir Simon swung his glass claymore in a wide arch, cutting one zombie in half and decapitating another. The second zombie reeled back as its head bounced along the ground. Then, perhaps enraged by the loss, it threw itself upon the green blade, impaling itself halfway to the hilt.

Before Simon could wrench his sword free, a skeletal warrior leapt over the barricade and jammed his mace into Simon's cuirass. The armor fractured and shards of glass tore into the human's stomach. He screamed but managed to bat the skeleton away with his gloved hand. Simon coughed, and blood flew from his mouth and dripped down the side of his cheek. The warrior suddenly felt very weak. He removed his helmet in an effort to catch his breath, and a well placed arrow from a skeletal archer, split the man's head in two. He fell – dead.

The other three Order members panicked at the loss of their heavy hitter. They broke ranks and ran. And they were cut down an instant later, as they left the relative safety of their barricade and turned their backs on the enemy. These enemy, having polished off the Order forces positioned by the door way, then turned their attention to Integra's group as they moved to encircle them.

Alucard grabbed hold of his barricade, preparing to volt over it and come to his master's aid. But her order's – shouted over the military issue, hand radios – checked his progress. "Everyone hold position; stay where you are!"

It was doubtless meant to keep anymore of the Order's forces from trying to fall back, and so end up getting themselves killed like the last bunch. But his master had, unfortunately addressed the order to 'everyone', and that included him. His hands were tied; the seals would not let him disobey any direct order. He snarled at his blasted, glowing gloves and attempted to open up a mental connection to his master. If he could get her to even think of amending that last order, to make him exempt, he could rush to help her. But Integra's mind was otherwise occupied at the moment, and she was too focused on staying alive to notice, much less respond to, her servant's mental prodding.

However, two of her other followers disregarded the lady knight's last order and ran out from behind their barricades. Michael had never been very good at following orders. And Alison, though she felt a strong subconscious tugging to obey Integra's orders, was not sealed in the same manner as the monster she'd spawned from. The sniper and young vampire charged the mass of undead encircling the lady knight, the ex-marine and the warrior nun, as the rest of Integra's followers stayed where they were and provided covering fire.

The skeleton with the mace swung it hard into Integra's ribs, but her heavy, enchanted armor held. She moved her left arm down and pinned the skeleton's right between her arm and her breastplate. While the undead abomination was held, helpless, the lady knight stabbed with her blade, striking the lumbar section of the skeleton's spine and embedding the tip of her sword between the L4 and L5 vertebrae. With a grunt, Integra drove the sword deeper until it pushed through the spine completely, severing the skeleton in half. The abomination fell to the ground, but their was no time for the lady knight to enjoy her victory, for a zombie had already pounced upon her back and was in the process of jamming the rotted flesh of its fist into her open mouth, choking her in perhaps the most disgusting way imaginable.

Michael reached up and grabbed the handle of the sentient whip coiled around his shoulder. He'd left his sniper behind, recognizing that it would do him little good up close. The whip immediately sprang to life, and Belmont shot his arm out towards his boss. The tip of the whip sliced through the zombies shoulder, severing the arm it had wrapped around Integra. While the lady knight yanked the diseased, now dismembered hand, from her mouth, Michael's whip wrapped around the zombie's chest and slashed it open as it flicked the mindless undead away.

Alison was already in the midst of the shambling horde, making good use of her superior strength. Grabbing hold of a zombie's wrist and then kicking against its chest, she simultaneously tore both of the creature's limbs off and knocked it to the ground. The young vampire then took aim at two more zombies and hurled the detached arms through the air, driving one into the chest of the second zombie and the other into the gut of the third. Both monstrosities let out a sharp moan, though the vampire couldn't tell whether it was from pain or simple shock. It didn't matter much anyway. An instant later a blast from Keith's shotgun turned them both into nothing more than ash.

A nearby skeletal archer took aim at Alison's heart. But before it had a chance to loose the arrow on its cord, Debra swung her large Halberd in a great arching motion, raising it high above her head to slam down into the skeleton's helmet with as much force as possible. The ax shaped head at the end of the Halberd split the helmet and skull like two halves of a ripe cashew.

"We need to fall back," Michael stated as a zombie grabbed his arm, possibly hoping to hold it in place and thus render the whip useless. Apparently the undead husk had no idea that the whip had a mind of its own. But it soon discovered this as the weapon coiled back on its own accord, wrapped around the creature's neck and slashed back out to its full length, sending the zombie's head flying.

The undead creature reared back, and Integra took the opportunity to drive her flaming sword deep into its belly. "Move," the knight ordered, for once not bothering to argue with her sniper. They'd already lost the arched entrance-way. There were too many undead swarming the area now to push them back with close quarter's fighting. But if they could get to the safety of the next set of barricades they might yet turn things around... for awhile at least.

The five began to run towards the next group of fortifications, but the mass of undead were hot on their heels. And worse, since the defenders were now running towards their allies and being chased, they'd placed themselves in between their friends and the enemy. Cover fire was out of the question. Or, at least it seemed to be until their was a wet, squishy sound somewhere behind them and one of the zombies fell. Then another fell, and another.

Integra and the others could hear the sounds of the undead falling behind them and some mysterious twinging from somewhere off to their right. But they had no idea what was going on, not until they reached the next set of barricades, ducked behind them and turned around to see a dozen 'redead' corpses littering the trail behind them, each one with goose feathered arrow shafts protruding from its body.

Another zombie fell, and as it did, Debra saw the direction the arrows were coming from. Craning her neck to the side, the nun spied a green knoll on which a man, completely clothed in black, stood. He was tall, well over six feet, and had long, black hair which was secured into a ponytail. It flapped around in the light breeze as the man readied another arrow, pulled and loosed. His aim was deadly, though he fired so quickly that Debra wondered if he bothered 'aiming' at all. Somehow the action seemed more instinctive than anything else.

The nun noticed that several more bundles of goose feathered arrows were scattered about the man's feet. Whoever he was, he'd come prepared for a long, grueling battle. But who was he? Where had he come from? And why did she have some vague feeling of recognition when she looked at him? Did she know him from somewhere? If so, where? The nun was then snapped out of her contemplative state as the knight beside let out a holler.

"That wouldn't be the same archer who... 'split' you, would it?" Integra yelled to her pet monster.

Alucard peered at the dark archer for a moment. "No, that's not him... just some other Robin Hood wannabe," the vampire replied as he quickly emptied a clip into a Lich who'd been advancing on the barricade.

The first round from the monster's Jackal shattered the crystal in the top of the undead mage's staff. The second and third struck the creature's left and right palms, blowing its hands clean off. The forth flew into the mage's jaw bone, snapping it so that half of the undead mage's mouth hung loosely from its cheek. And the forth shot punched through the helmet, protecting the undead creature's head and scrambling its brains. The powerful, necromantic sorcerer had been put down as effortlessly as a rabid dog.

"Robin wore green," Seras informed.

Alucard smiled as he locked another clip into place, and it was unclear if this was caused by the simple click of the clip entering the gun... or the fact that he found it cute that his former fledgling apparently felt the need to correct him on Robin's wardrobe. "That so, Seras? You know that for a fact, do you?"

"Well, no... but that's always how he's shown in the movies."

"Seras!" Integra interjected. "If you and your master are quite done discussion English folk-heroes, do you think you could clear that opening?"

"Oh... Yes, Sir!" the former fledgling replied and fired off a quick salute before switching from her BAERLKS rifle to her Harkonnen cannon. She took aim and fired one of her few remaining shells, perfectly impacting the center of the doorway. Flesh and bone alike went flying in a hail of shrapnel that took out nearly as many undead as the initial explosion.

"Alright, Baskerville, go!" Integra shouted, and the demon dog eagerly leapt over the barricade and began mauling the remaining undead abominations as they were still reeling from Seras's attack. The knight heard a soft meow from her left and looked over to see the orange tabby, vampire, kitten. She rolled her eyes. "Oh fine. Fluffy, you can go too."

"_Meow,_" the kitten purred as she rushed to join her master.

And for a moment it looked as though the defenders might regain the ground they'd recently lost. But then, suddenly, a man appeared in the doorway of the ruin. He was old and wrinkled, and his long, flowing robes were caked with dirt. Yet he held his head high and looked contemptuously on those gathered before him, the way a human might look at rats he found hiding in the basement. He extended his hand and spoke a phrase in some dead language that no one else could even recognize.

The ground shook and cracked at this old mage's words. Several small earthquakes split the land in a spiderweb pattern. Centuries old skeletons clamored their way to the surface, tugging and pulling on exposed roots or scaling the fissures in the ground the way the living might scale a cliff. What remained of the bodies of these, long since buried and forgotten, individuals was soon joined by the fewer but fresher bodies of those who had recently passed on. The dead Order members, killed in earlier attacks, rose from their graves. Their minds and souls were gone; having crossed the barrier between life and death, they did not return with the bodies. Instead these husks were nothing more than mindless drones, holding their only allegiance to the man who's dark powers had reanimated them. And all the abomination that Hellsing and the Order had felled since the fighting started suddenly sprang back to life once more.

For a moment, just a moment all fighting stopped. The defenders of life and liberty stared at the old mage, a mixture of awe and fear in their eyes, and the mindless dead looked to their master for guidance and direction. "Purge this island of all life! Let its ruined land stand as an eternal testament, an example of the fate that awaits all those who would foolishly try to impede my plans," the King of Worms roared.

"Bloody Hell," Integra and Michael sardonically grumbled in unison.

* * *

Antarctica! Of course, how could he have forgotten? He'd placed Cylarne in the freezer – not a closet - when he'd redecorated his realm! No wonder it had taken him so long to find.

"Sheoth," the prince of madness began. "You've gotta start remembering where you leave your ancient fortresses."

The Daedric lord shook his head then stretched his arms out to the sky. Clouds suddenly appeared and began to crackle as they swirled inward and upward. Sheogorath merely tapped his foot impatiently. "Any time now," he said, his voice tinged with minor annoyance. Suddenly a bolt of lightning leapt from the center of the swirling mass and struck the ice covered landscape, melting an angled opening through the surface. Then another bolt struck, and another... until a tunnel had been formed deep into the heart of the frozen wasteland.

"Much obliged," Sheogorath commented as he entered the new tunnel. It led straight to the ancient stronghold's courtyard.

"Alright, where are you? Come out, come out wherever you are." the Daedric said, then scratched his head when his call went unanswered. "What's keeping them?" he asked in a puzzled tone before snapping his fingers. "Oh, right, forgot to thaw the place out." Sheogorath stretched out his arms once more, this time towards a small structure that rested between to other, much large ones. Flame flowed from the prince of madness's hands like water from a fire-hose, lighting the alter in the center of this structure: the Cold Flame of Agnon. The energy from this, now lit, alter split and flowed into two smaller ones: the Altar of Despair, housed in one of the larger structures, and the Alter of Rapture, housed in the other. And then the ice that still clung to the buildings melted away and two very different groups of 'people' began to emerge from each.

One group possessed yellow skin. These individuals were clothed in golden armor, wore winged helmets and carried themselves in a rather haughty fashion. They had brownish eyes and only when they caught sight of their lord did the all but perpetual scowl vanish from their faces.

The other group stood in sharp contrast to this first. Their skin was a deep purple. Their armor was predominantly black, but with a green lace work hanging from around their waists. They carried large, black shields in the shape of giant, halved clams. And looking into their blue eyes seemed to hint at more patient and introspective nature.

However there were some similarities between the groups. The members of both were tall and broad, and their mannerisms spoke of many, many years spent in the thick of battle. Both groups were also predominantly female. And when the members of either group happened to glance in the direction of the other, their eyes narrowed in bitter hatred.

One person from each group – their respective leaders presumably – stepped forward and walk to the Daedric prince. They dropped to one knee, the way a knight would when addressing the Crown. "Lord Sheogorath," both began.

"The Aureals,"

"The Mazken,"

"... await your command."

The first command given was that the two should rise. The second was that they should grab their favorite weapons and prepare for a battle greater than any they have fought before. This second command was met with roarish cheer by Aureal and Mazken, and female and male alike.

* * *

Well, thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed the new chapter. Please drop me a review and let me know what you thought of it. Thanks. ;) Next chapter the final battle concludes... hopefully. :p

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid.


	24. Chapter 24: The Battle pt2

**The Battle (pt2)**

**AN: **Okay, here it is, the last full chapter. Though, I am planing on an epilogue to sort off round things off. Well, hope you enjoy.

* * *

Michael scanned the battlefield. Things had changed. They were completely surrounded now, no chance at finding cover, no hope of escape. He should've gotten out when he could've, should've of never came to this blasted island. But no, he just had to throw his lot in with those who seemed determined to get themselves killed, just had to join the heroes in their hopeless last stand. And the worst part of it all was that, even knowing what he did, if he could've gone back in time he would've made the same stupid choices that put him in this situation to begin with. He was about to die, and he wouldn't have changed a single thing if he could've, except of course the inevitable outcome of the battle.

_'Love makes fools of us all.' _The quote echoed in Michael's head, though he could not remember where he'd heard it. Was it from one of Shakespeare's plays? Had it been a song lyric? Was it something he'd heard on TV? It didn't matter; wherever the line had come from, in that moment, Michael believed that no truer words had ever been spoken. Twenty-six years old and he was ready to die, just so long as he did so fighting by _her_ side. The man was a bloody fool, and he knew it.

And as a man, condemned to die fighting in a hopeless battle against impossible odds, Michael decided that he mine as well add one more foolish thing to the list of mistakes he'd never live to regret. He turned to the lady knight beside him and said, "Well since it looks like we're screwed, I've got a confession to make."

Integra cast doubtful eyes at her soldier. Somehow the mention of a confession set the overly suspicious woman on edge.

"I love you," Michael continued obliviously.

"You love me?" Integra questioned, her expression falling somewhere between surprise and shock.

"Yes. When I first met you, I thought you were a lunatic. Then, as I got to know you, I thought you were the most outrageous, impossible woman I'd ever met. Now I find you the most original and delightful.*"

Integra just stared for a second or two. She wasn't very experienced in the romance department, but even still the words 'I love you' seemed like ones that should've been whispered for the first time over a candle-light dinner or a moonlit walk upon the beach. But no, when a man told her that he loved her, it just _had_ to be said in the middle of a battlefield where their lives were on the line and she needed to focus completely on the situation at hand if her and her followers were going to have any chance of making it out alive.

"Bloody Hell," Integra grumbled, once more, under her breath and shook her head. "I don't have time for this," she replied and turned away from her soldier and towards her pet monster. "Alucard, go show that pretentious, old wizard that he's not the only No-Life King around here!" the lady knight shouted.

Alucard's eyes flashed in excitement, and his face pulled into an ear splinting grin. "It will be my pleasure, Master."

Satisfied, Integra turned back to Michael. "If you love me, then use that whip of yours to keep these abominations from flanking us. _I'm_ not ready to concede defeat just yet." The man nodded.

The walking corpses of over two hundred dead men, women and children stood between Alucard and his target. The vampire snorted in disgust as he began to tare through them, like a charging lion through the high grass. These pitiful creatures were not enemies; they were merely obstacles, placed between him and his new 'playmate'.

Grabbing hold of one zombie, the monster effortlessly tore it in two. A Lich came at him from the side, and Alucard stretched out his hand to snatch the undead wizard's head off. He hurled the object at another zombie, the skull fracturing into white shrapnel on impact. An armored skeleton tried to hold its ground against the charging vampire, but its efforts were in vain, as Alucard took hold of its rusted claymore and ripped both the sword and the skeleton's right arm from it. Not caring about the arm, the vampire pulled it from the sword's hilt and discarded it, impaling yet another zombie, through the throat, in the process. Then the ancient, undead warrior grasped the hilt himself and used the six foot blade to cut a swatch through the remaining 'obstacles'. The two other forms that had been taken from him, followed in the crimson killer's bloodied wake.

Alucard reached the battlefield's other master of death and his eyes flashed once more as he hefted the oversized sword high above his head. "And now, King of Worms, let us discover whether you're truly a king... or just a pathetic worm!" the vampire roared as he brought his arm down.

The sword froze mere inches from the old wizard's face as it was encased in a purplish field of energy. "You think to slay me with mere metal? You've got a lot to learn, Pup." And with that the sword was jerked from Alucard's grasp. And, faster than a human eye could've even seen, it spun around him and thrust itself through his chest, right through the heart.

Alucard staggered backwards as the mage's hands glowed with red flame. "Ashes to Ashes," the wizard taunted, but before he could unleash his spell, Baskerville leapt over and ripped one of the necromancer's arms clean off.

Alucard laughed, blood dripping from his mouth each time he opened it. "Good boy," he commented to the devil dog which flipped its head to send the arm into the air and then swallow it whole. The creature licked its lips and stared hungrily at the rest of the wizard as Alison wrenched the large sword from the red monster's chest.

Ignoring the regenerating wound, Alucard reached into his coat and pulled out his two pistols. He laughed manically as he let the rounds fly. He blew apart the old wizard's other arm, his legs, groin and chest before sending a blessed bullet into the mage's head causing the skull to explode and rain down blood and chunks of grey matter on the four of them.

"Is that all?" the monster snorted in a disappointed tone.

"Hardly," a disembodied voice replied then laughed as the wind picked up. The King of Worm's body pieces were lifted into the air and they swirled around in a twister of flesh and blood as the old wizard reanimated himself. A bizarre mixture of fire and lightning shot from the midst of the twister, sparking out to strike at Alucard and his other two forms.

Momentarily stunned, Alucard staggered backwards once again and Baskerville wined. The hell hound wined again as the arm it had swallowed tore through its stomach and flew into the twister to join the rest of the scrambled body parts, eviscerating the black hound in the process. Only Alison was spared the pain of the blasts as her new necklace glowed brightly.

The small vampire gripped the large sword tightly and charged at the twister, the six foot blade trailing behind her. The wizard, now fully reformed, dropped to the ground, and Alison leapt over him. She landed behind him and spun, her blade slicing through the wizard's ankles. The old man fell forward, and the young girl took the opportunity to chop his head clean off. She then repositioned her sword and thrust the blade through the wizard's chest. "Die!"

But the dismembered head simply laughed as it and the rest of the body lifted into the air once more and came back together again. "Sorry, little girl, I don't do requests."

Alison, her sword still planted in the wizard's chest, stood unarmed... that was until she caught the flicker of light being reflected off of an object flying towards her. She snatched the object from the air, and found it to be Alucard's Casull. "Concentrate your fire on his head," the crimson monster ordered as he began to blast away with his Jackal. Alison nodded and joined in.

The King of Worms let out a pained roar and sent out a wave of energy, reanimating the corpses on the battlefield and summoning all those nearby to help him. Baskerville growled and attempted to hold the walking sacks of putrid flesh off, while the two vampires continued to pump the necromancer full of blessed silver.

"It's poi-" the wizard began before another round blew his jaw off. "It's pointless," he then continued as the two vampires stopped to reload their guns, granting the reforming wizard a momentary reprieve. "Eventually, you're going to run out of bullets. Then what will you do?"

"Grind your face under my heel," Alucard rumbled back as the new clip clicked into place and he began firing once more.

Across the battlefield Integra and Michael were seriously outnumbered. "Well this is just ridiculous," Belmont objected as his whip sliced through the shoulder of one zombie and then curled back to cut the legs off of another. "What chance do we have when he can keep bringing the ones we slay back to life?"

"What? You expected him to play fair?" Integra retorted sardonically as she drove her sword through the eye of a zombie and used her free hand to pull a pistol out from underneath her breastplate. She fired the hand gun at a charging armored skeleton, the shots slipping between the cracks in the undead's plate and severing its spine. The Skeleton doubled over to the ground and opened its mouth as if to scream, yet no sound came.

On the top of a small hill, a rejuvenated Father Thomas stood his ground thumping silver tipped, three foot arrow shafts into the chests of an advancing horde. He'd lost track of how many he'd 'laid to rest'. But, whatever the number was, more just kept coming, and he knew that eventually he'd be overrun.

The priest was not alone in this knowledge however, as Sister Debra looked over and saw his less than desirable situation. "Looks like our mysterious friend is in a bit of a tight spot. What ya' say we go over and repay his earlier favor?" the nun asked the shotgun wielding ex-marine standing a mere five yards away.

"Well, seein' how we're completely surrounded, I suppose it's not going to make much difference which direction we fight in," Keith replied with a grin. "You clear a path with that big stick of yours, and I'll cover our flank."

"Sound's like a deal to me," the nun replied and charged ahead.

The two reached the hill and were just barely able to beat off the advancing horde. "Thanks, guess this makes us even," the dark clothed archer stated with a roguish grin.

"Not quite, just who are you?"

"Aw, don't recognize me?" the archer asked as he loosed another arrow from his long warbow.

It was then that Sister Debra noticed the silver badge on the bow and recognized it as the same one that Father Thomas had attached to his walking stick. She stared, open mouthed, at the pony-tailed young man in front of her. She could hardly believe it, but it had to be. She recognized the eyes as well. "Thomas? H-How?"

"Now's probably not the best time for exposition," Keith informed as he pumped his shotgun to chamber another round into place.

The ex-marine had a point, so Debra let her question drop... for now. She'd pick it up again later, when their lives weren't on the line... assuming of course there was to be a 'later' before reaching those pearly gates.

A blow from a shield sent Integra reeling, and the undead knight tried to thrust his glass sword into the lady knight's chest. But her armor held and the strike merely glanced off to the side. The Hellsing recovered and was about to start trading blows with a reanimated Sir Simon when something sharp, slick and black suddenly protruded from his green breastplate. "Get your filthy mitts off of Sir Integra!" a voice shouted as the zombiefied former Order member looked down in surprise and grabbed at the protrusion... only to find himself hoisted up and flung through the air before he had a chance to do anything.

Seras stood in front of her former master's master – her master now, she presumed – with a sly expression on her face. "I'm afraid I've run out of ammo... but I've still got a devil of a left hook," the former fledgling quipped as she brandished her shadow arm.

Sir Simon's corpse arched over the battlefield and landed beside Lewis's feet, startling the young mage. Once Lewis recognized the green glass armor though, he sighed in relief. "Oh, thank God. I didn't know how much longer I was going to be able to hold them back on my own. Sir Simon, yo-y-y-y-" The mage began stuttering as the undead knight scrambled back to his feet and Lewis noticed that the green clad Order member was now an undead, playing for the other side. "Oh, crap," the mage cried as he brought his staff to bare and used it to telekinetically push the green knight back, toppling the zombies behind him in the process.

Sir Simon hissed as his back struck a large bolder. Then the undead knight leapt into the air, intending to pounce on the young mage who, even in life, he'd never much cared for. Lewis shrieked but managed to use his staff to whip the leaping knight over his head and into another group of ghoulies. But Sir Simon rose once more, and this time when Lewis pointed his staff no purple energy flowed from it. Instead the object just made a *phszt* sound.

Sir Simon charged, and Lewis, lacking the time to recharge his staff was forced to try to use it as a club to beat off the green knight. Fortunately, for the young mage, it seemed that death had further decreased, Sir Simon's already questionable intelligence. He was little more than an animal now, and Lewis managed to maneuver around the undead knight's strike and jab the end of his staff through the hole in the green armor. The treated, hardened wood sunk deep into the zombie's belly, and then Lewis jerked the staff upwards, through the belly and into the chest cavity, piercing the abomination's heart.

The young mage was quite pleased with himself. That was until he pulled his staff back out and discovered that he'd broken the tip off in Sir Simon's innards. "OH CRAP!" Lewis exclaimed as he suddenly found himself unarmed and defenseless against the host of undead.

And then a cry could be heard from one end of the small island to another. "HOLD!" the shout came, and suddenly the world screeched to a halt. And when it started back up again there were new warriors on the battlefield. Golden Saints, in bright shining armor, and Dark Seducers, their own armor as dark as night lightened only a trim of green around their waists, mixed with skeletons, Lichs, and Zombies. Immortal Daedra battled the undead as the Prince of Madness' and the King of Worms' forces met each other for the first time. It was glorious, a thoroughly gory scene, as limbs were hacked off, swords and shields rattled; and everywhere there was the din of war.

"I see you found your armies," Integra found the time to comment now that their reinforcements had driven back the undead abominations.

"Indeed I did, Missy. Would you believe that I didn't stash them in a closet after all? I put them in the freezer," the bearded man with cat's eyes and royal garb replied. "I mean really, frozen armies? Whoever heard of such a thing? Not to mention the Popsicles."

"Popsicles?" Seras questioned.

"Yes, if I put my armies in the freezer, wherever did I hide my Popsicles?"

Integra hung her head but chuckled all the same. "You know you really _are_ insane."

"Oh, my dear, I'm far worse than that. I'm entirely bonkers. But I'll tell you a secret. All the best people are.*"

"Well, bonkers or not," Michael cut in, "thanks for the save."

"Ack, thank me later. Haven't saved nothing yet, we've still got a war to win. Speaking of which, I've gotta se a triplet 'bout a worm. Toodles." And with that Sheogorath lifted himself into the air and headed for where Alucard, Alison and Baskerville were locked in an endless battle with the King of Worms.

The Mad Prince stopped only once along the way and that was when he caught site of a human running around in the middle of the battle field, trying to keep one step away from the ghoulies pursuing him. Sheogorath's brow furled. "Hey, what gives? Why aren't you fighting like all the others?" the Daedric Prince shouted.

"I'm a mage and my staff's broken; I don't have anything to fight with!" the young man hollered back as he zigzagged in between arrows, fire blasts and mythical warriors.

"Oh, of all the... Here, take my old one," the Prince of Madness replied as he dropped a staff from above. "Now, get back to fighting, or I'll pluck out your eyes!"

Lewis gulped, nodded and then used his new staff to blast an oncoming zombie. However, to the young mage's shock and horror, the bolt of energy served only to transform the lurching zombie into a thirteen-foot-tall minotaur, wielding a club that was bigger than Lewis's whole body. "What the... What am I suppose to do with this!" the young mage shouted.

"Bah, I don't have time for this," Sheogorath replied. "Haskill, explain it to him." And with that order, the Prince of Madness continued on as a butler appeared on the ground in front of Lewis.

"The Staff of Wabbajack," the butler began in a monotone drawl, "has the ability to temporarily transform any creature into a different, random creature."

"Oh great," the young mage replied sarcastically. "And how is that suppose to help me?"

"I'm sure I don't know," was the butler's stuffy answer. He then vanished just as suddenly as he'd appeared.

For a moment Lewis just stood there with his jaw hanging. Then he heard a distressed meowing sound; and turning to his left, the mage spied an orange tabby that had been stuck through the gut with a sword and was pinned to the ground. A Lich was standing in front of the small creature, its hands glowing as it prepared to cast the spell that would end the small critter's life.

Lewis quickly stretched out his staff at the kitten and saw it magically transform into a creature of pure flame. It was up now, and fire leapt from its hands like a flamethrower, destroying the Lich. Lewis ran over as the flaming creature turned and cut down the zombie's chasing him with another blast. Then it reverted back into the orange tabby, and a deal was struck.

"I'll keep you transformed, and you keep me alive," Lewis suggested.

"Meow," the kitten replied, and the mage decided to take that as a 'yes'. He used his staff on the cat again, this time transforming it into a great ogre that effortlessly bashed its way through three armored skeletons.

Meanwhile, Sheogorath had reached the area where the No Life King and the King of Worms continued in their endless duel. "How are things going?" the Daedric Prince asked.

"Not well," Alison replied. "We keep blowing or hacking him to pieces, but..."

"The bastard keeps reforming!" Alucard finished for the little vamp.

"Yeah, that's the problem with masters of the undead. They can't really be killed," the Daedric responded. "They can, however, be trapped, and I've got just the thing to do it," he continued with a wink. Then he pointed his staff at the King of Worms and fighting vampires and called, "Hold!" once more. All four were frozen, and when they found themselves able to move again several dark gems were scattered on the ground around them.

Alucard recognized the gems immediately. They were the same kind that that blasted archer had used to split him, only these were even larger. "Now, hit him with everything you've got," Sheogorath instructed, and Alucard, guessing the mad one's plan, for once didn't bother to protest another person – other than his master – telling him what to do.

The four attacked the King of Worms with everything they could muster. Sheogorath sent wave after wave of fire, ice and lightning at the old wizard. Alison reclaimed the rusted claymore and charged, thrusting her sword at any opening. Having long since run out of ammo, Alucard used his massive strength to tear the necromancer's limbs off and rip his intestines from his body. And Baskerville growled, bit and slashed with his great claws.

All around them the battle continued to wage, but it was unimportant. As long as the King of Worms was free, his undead army would continue to reanimate. The only hope they had was to put him down, so the Mad Prince, crimson monster, little vampire and devil dog concentrated on that alone, leaving the rest of the fighting to their allies.

And eventually the scales began to tip. It was taking the King of Worms more and more time to reform as Sheogorath hit him with a soul trapping spell each time the vampires managed to tear him to pieces and more and more of the ancient necromancer was leached away into the scattered gems. And then, finally, the King of Worms failed to reform entirely. And, with an earsplitting shriek, the next time he was ripped open, he vanished entirely into the gems and his army fell lifeless to the ground.

Integra surveyed the battlefield. The dead laid sprawled across it, unmoving, inanimate, as they should have been. Her, her followers, the Mad Prince, his armies, their Catholic allies and what remnants remained of the Order of Virtuous Blood had emerged victorious. Against all odds they'd done it, and the mad 'other Earth' that they all called home would continue on as it had for as far back as any of them could remember. They'd won the day.

And the lady knight remembered that she still had a loose end to tie up. She looked around the battle field once more, searching for the soldier she'd become separated from after the new armies had arrived. Her eyes came to rest on Michael, and she began to calmly and purposefully close the distance between them.

"Now, about this 'I love you' business," Integra said as she neared her target.

"Yeah," Michael began hesitantly and let out a nervous laugh. "About that... well..." He paused and cleared his throat. "When a person thinks they're about to die... Well, sometimes they can say things that... What I mean is... Well, do you think we could just forget that I said anything?"

Integra glared at her soldier, and he gulped. She was standing right in front of him now, hands folded across her chest. She slowly moved her head to the right, then the left in an 'I don't think so' motion. And then she jerked it forward, and their lips met. Suddenly her arms were no longer folded against her, instead her hands were around the sides and back of the startled Belmont's head.

Michael's surprise began to fade. He relaxed and pressed into the kiss, enjoying the taste of the lady knight's mouth, the feeling of her soft lips upon his. She smelt of gunpowder, of battle and of Cuban tobacco, and Michael nearly lost himself in the intoxicating mixture as they continued to 'sample' each other.

Sometime later, neither one was precisely sure when, they both broke for air. "Uhuh, you're not getting off that easily," Integra teased as the corner of her lip pulled upwards.

Michael let out a pleased chuckle. "Wouldn't dream of it."

Somewhere off to the right Seras smiled broadly. "Awww, that's so cute."

Alucard huffed, coming up behind the strawberry-blonde vampire. "Kissing: such a pointless, human interaction."

Seras turned to glare at her former master. "Master, you don't have a romantic bone in your-"

The ancient vampire cut the young one off with a surprise kiss of his own, one which served to stifle her objection quite well.

_'But not an altogether unpleasant one,' _Alucard thought to his former fledgling. _'And you know you don't have to call me Master any more.'_

Seras just giggled into the monster's mouth. She was really starting to enjoy their new relationship.

* * *

*Line taken from an episode of SOAP.

*Line taken from the new Alice in Wonderland movie.

Well, thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed the last full-fledged chapter. Indecently, I _never_ plan to write another battle with THAT many named characters again, the balancing is waaaaaay too much work and the writing gets monotonous. Anyway, please drop me a review and let me know what you thought of it. Thanks. ;)

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid.

PS. If any of you Hellsing fans happen to also be familar with the TV show Chuck, Lion in the Land has written a very funny Chuck/Hellsing crossover one-shot, complete with a bit of Twilight bashing. It's called Chuck Versus the Vampire and can be found on Lion in the Land's author page or in my favorites section.


	25. Epilogue: Seven Years Later

**Epilogue: Seven Years Later**

**AN: **This epilogue actually ties into another one of my fics, a one-shot mostly about Seras and Alucard. See if you can guess which one. ;)

**PS. **Warning: this one's a little fluffy. :p

* * *

Integra was sitting behind her desk, going over reports and requisition forms when one caught her eye. It was from the newly established India branch of the Hellsing Organization and had been filed by Keith. On the surface it was a simple requisition form requesting a shipment to replenish the branch's supply of medical blood packets, however Integra recognized the importance of this request. There were only two field agents in the Indian branch, yet the requisition form was made out for enough transfusion blood to meet the needs of a hundred agents in any normal Commonwealth agency. Few of these blood packets were for medical use, however, instead the vast majority would be used to meet the nutritional needs of the young vampire which had been split from Alucard seven years ago. And Integra, knowing how Alison's 'sire' got when the blood supply ran low, quickly signed her name to the bottom of the form and stamped the top right corner with an "urgent" seal. She placed it in a short stack with a few other forms – the priority reports and requisitions – and replaced the paperweight on top of the stack.

It was a good thing that the highly organized, English woman took this added precaution, for no sooner did she return to her paperwork than a light breeze curled the edges of the sorted stacks and tugged at her hair, lifting it slightly and causing it to drift subtly to the left. The corner of Integra's lip turned upwards. "I don't often leave my windows open; you'll have to do better than that if you intend to sneak up on me."

"And what makes you think I want to do that?" a voice asked from somewhere behind the lady knight.

"You could've used the door," Integra replied without bothering to turn around. She knew who was behind her, and he had no desire to harm her.

"The window's a more direct rout."

"And since when did you become the direct one?" the lady knight replied coyly.

The voice behind her chuckled as arms suddenly wrapped around her front. "Oh, since I discovered it was much more fun to go for what you want in life than lie around dreaming about it."

"Oh? And what is it you want?"

"You."

"Why, Michael, I hope you don't mean to imply I'm an 'it'," Integra responded in a mock warning tone.

"Never," her soldier answered as he gently rubbed his cheek against hers.

"Good," Integra stated before turning the conversation to more immediate concerns. "I take it your mission was a success?"

"The targets have all been neutralized... not that you were expecting to hear anything different. I'm sure that if you weren't completely confident I could handle that infestation on my own, you would've sent in the big guns, anniversary or not."

"You know me well," the lady knight replied. "Even still, there's always the chance of an unexpected complication."

"True," Michael consented before moving his mouth to Integra's right ear. "Are the twins in bed yet?" he whispered an a slightly suggestive tone.

"Yes, I had Seras tuck them in an hour ago," the Master of Monsters answered.

"Seras?" Michael questioned. "Big Red couldn't have been too pleased about that."

"Well then he'll just have to get over it," Integra scoffed. "I've already given the two of them the night off and sent them down a... special gift," she defended. "I don't think asking for a few minutes of my own servant's time is unreasonable, even on her anniversary."

Michael said nothing in reply. The vampires were Integra's 'pets', not his. She was their master, and he recognized that it was no more his place to interfere in that relationship than it was Integra's place to question him about his decisions regarding Sara*. Still, giving no reply at all could've been interpreted as a display of disapproval, so the man let out a short, non-committal grunt in response.

"So then, if the kids are asleep, I suppose that means we can... 'play'?" Michael suggested.

"Duty before pleasure," Integra replied. "I've still got some paperwork left, and _you_ need to write up a mission report."

"Oh, but I'd much prefer a post-mission... 'debriefing'," her soldier responded with a rumbling purr

Integra rolled her eyes. "Oh really, you couldn't come up with anything more original than that?" she complained.

"Sorry," Michael apologized for the bad pun. "Come to bed, and I'll make it up to you," he continued and lightly nibbled on the lady knight's right earlobe.

"You never give up, do you?*"

"Nope, I'm a member of the Hellsing organization, her Majesty's most secret, best trained and equipped fighting force. We _do not_ surrender," Michael replied, nearly quoting, word for word, the claim the Hellsing leader had made back when he'd suggested they surrender during the Order siege.

Integra laughed lightly and shook her head. "Fine," she consented with a chuckle. "I'll be along in a few minutes. I just have to file the papers I've already read and signed, and then I'll call it a night. However, I expect you to file that report first thing in the morning."

"Sure thing, Boss," Michael replied with a grin as he made his way to the office door.

* * *

Integra stopped once on the way to her bedroom. She wanted to look in on her children, make sure they were okay. It was an emotional desire, not a logical one.

The two Hellsing heirs were important to everyone in the organization, even Alucard, though he'd never admit it. Eventually one would take control of the organization, while the other would follow in their father's footsteps and learn to wield the vampire slaying whip. In London, the capitol and seat of power in a nation that had been a major world power for more than five hundred years, no two children were more important to the future of humanity than Integra's twins; for they represented the future of mankind's protection against its ancient, most feared predator: the vampire. The Hellsing organization housed, perhaps, the most powerful beings on the planet, and they would permit no harm to come to their young charges.

Yes, the twins were as safe as any human could be, yet parental instinct still demanded that the lady knight look in on them. And as she reached the door to their room, she found that she was not the only one so motivated. "How are they?" Integra whispered as she came up along-side her husband.

He smiled at her. "Sleeping soundly."

The dark beast in the corner of the room raised his head and opened one eye. Seeing, who it was standing in the doorway the devil dog seemed satisfied that all was well. It bent down and nuzzled the small tabby between its paws, let out a silent yawn and then rested its head back upon the burgundy carpeting and resumed its napping.

"Not that your pets would have it any other way," Michael continued quietly.

Integra let out a single, dry chuckle. "Indeed. Sometimes I think those two are more protective of the twins than we are," she quipped happily.

The lady knight's left hand had been hanging loosely by her side, and she now felt warm fingers curl around hers. She said nothing, but her lips pulled into a contented smile as her and her husband stood there staring at the fruit of their love. They'd be heading off to bed themselves in a little bit, but for now they waited and thanked the Good Lord for the blessing's He'd bestowed upon them.

* * *

*For anyone unfamiliar with "Castlevania: Lament of Innocence", Sara is the name of the person who's soul was bound to the Whip of Alchemy to turn it into the Vampire Slayer. In other words she's the spirit of the whip, the one Michael was 'talking' to when he first took possession of his ancestral weapon.

*Line taken from "Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic"

Okay, for anyone who hasn't guessed yet (or who's never read my one-shot "A Bedtime Story", that's the fic this is meant to tie into. If you haven't read it, you may want to. It shows how Seras and Alucard are getting along after being together for seven years and provides a couple of quick glimpses into what Integra's and Michael's kids are like.

Have a good day, and God bless.

Metropolis Kid.

To OneImpressedMuggle, AKA insert cleverwitty pen name, AKA Heh whoops: Thanks for the reviews. :) I'm glad you liked this fic so much and thought I did a good job of balancing my OCs with the canon characters – always a little difficult to pull off well. :p I'm also pleased that you enjoyed the last battle and thought that the canon characters stayed IC throughout their romances. :D Hopefully you'll have as much fun reading the epilogue and will continue to enjoy my writing. ;)

To Ghost: Thanks for the review. :) I'm pleased that you thought the fic had a good balance of humor and that the plot developed well. I'm glad you found this one while I was still writing it too. :) And I hope you have as much fun with whatever fic of mine you decide to read next. ;)


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